THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


NATHANIEL  H.  BISHOP'S  BOOKS. 


FOUR  MONTHS  IN  A  SNEAK  BOX:  A  Boat  Voy- 
age of  Twenty-six  Hundred  Miles  down  the  Ohio  and 
Mississippi  Rivers,  and  along  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  With 
numerous  Maps  and  Illustrations.  £1.50. 

VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE:  A  Geographical 
Journey  of  Twenty-five  Hundred  Miles  from  Quebec  to 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  With  numerous  Illustrations  and 
Maps,  specially  prepared  for  this  work  Crown  8vo. 
$1.5°- 

A  THOUSAND  MILES'  WALK  across  South  America, 
over  the  Pampas  and  the  Andes.  Illustrated.  A  new 
edition.  $1.50. 


LEE  AND  SHEPARD,  PUBLISHERS,  BOSTON. 


VOYAGE 


OF 


A  GEOGRAPHICAL  JOURNEY  OF  2500  MILES,  FROM 

QUEBEC    TO    THE    GULF    OF   MEXICO, 

DURING  THE  YEARS  1874r-5. 


BY 


NATHANIEL   H.  BISHOP, 

AUTHOR   OK    "ONE   THOUSAND   MILES'    WALK   ACROSS  SOUTH   AMERICA,' 

AND   CORRESPONDING   MEMBER   OF   THE    BOSTON   SOCIETY 

OF  NATURAL   HISTORY,    AND   OF   THE   NEW 

YORK   ACADEMY  OF   SCIENCES, 


BOSTON : 
LEE    AND    SHEPARD,    PUBLISHERS. 

NEW    YORK:    CHARLES    T.    DILLINGHAM. 

EDINBURGH  :   DAVIJ)  DOUGLAS. ,  ,     ,      ,3 


COPYRIGHT 

1878, 

BY    N.   H.   BISHOP. 


UNIVERSITY  PRSSS  :  JOHN   WILSON  &  SON 


ft  06 


TO    THE 

SUPERINTENDENT,  ASSISTANTS,  AIDS,  AND  ALL 
EMPLOYES  OF  THE 

UNITED  STATES  COAST  SURVEY  BUREAU, 

THE 

" VOYAGE   OF  THE  PAPER   CANOE" 
IS  BESPECTFHLLY  DEDICATED, 

AS   A   SLIGHT  EVIDENCE    OF    THE   APPRECIATION    BY    ITS    AUTHOR    FOR 

THEIR     INTELLIGENT     EFFORTS     AND    SELF-DENYING     LABORS 

IN    THE  SERVICE  OF  THEIR   COUNTRY,    SO    PATIENTLY 

AND   SKILFULLY    PERFORMED,   UNDER   MANY 

DIFFICULTIES    AND   DANGERS. 


INTRODUCTION. 


THE    author   left    Quebec,  Dominion   of  Canada, 
July  4,   1874,  with  a  single  assistant,  in  a  wooden 
canoe  eighteen  feet  in  length,  bound  for  the  Gulf  of 
—     Mexico.     It  was  his  intention  to  follow  the  natural 
g      and    artificial    connecting   watercourses    of  the  con- 
£      tinent  in  the  most  direct  line  southward  to  the  gulf 
coast    of    Florida,    making    portages    as   seldom    as 
possible,  to  show  how  few  were  the  interruptions  to 
a  continuous  water-way  for  vessels  of  light  draught, 
£.     from  the  chilly,  foggy,  and  rocky  regions  of  the  Gulf 
g     of  St.  Lawrence  in  the  north,  to  the  semi-tropical 
waters  of  the  great  Southern  Sea,  the  waves  of  which 
beat  upon   the   sandy   shores    of    the    southernmost 
5    United  States.     Having  proceeded  about  four  hun- 
dred  miles   upon    his   voyage,    the    author    reached 

*    Troy,  on  the  Hudson  River,  New  York  state,  where 

M 

~    for  several  years  E.  Waters  &  Sons  had  been  per- 

^    fecting  the  construction  of  paper  boats. 

The  advantages  in  using  a  boat  of  only  fifty-eight 
pounds  weight,  the  strength  and  durability  of  which 
had  been  well  and  satisfactorily  tested,  could  not 


VI  INTRODUCTION. 

be  questioned,  and  the  author  dismissed  his  assist- 
ant, and  "paddled  his  own  canoe"  about  two  thou- 
sand miles  to  the  end  of  the  journey.  Though 
frequently  lost  in  the  labyrinth  of  creeks  and  marshes 
which  skirt  the  southern  coast  of  his  country,  the 
author's  difficulties  were  greatly  lessened  by  the  use 
of  the  valuable  and  elaborate  charts  of  the  United 
States  Coast  Survey  Bureau,  to  the  faithful  exe- 
cuters  of  which  he  desires  to  give  unqualified  and 
grateful  praise. 

To  an  unknown  wanderer  among  the  creeks,  rivers, 
and  sounds  of  the  coast,  the  courteous  treatment  of 
the  Southern  people  was  most  gratifying.  The 
author  can  only  add  to  this  expression  an  extract 
from  his  reply  to  the  address  of  the  Mayor  of  St. 
Mary's,  Georgia,  which  city  honored  him  with  an 
ovation  and  presentation  of  flags  after  the  comple- 
tion of  his  voyage  : 

"  Since  my  little  paper  canoe  entered  southern 
waters  upon  her  geographical  errand,  —  from  the 
capes  of  the  Delaware  to  your  beautiful  St.  Mary's, 
—  I  have  been  deeply  sensible  of  the  value  of 
Southern  hospitality.  The  oystermen  and  fishermen 
living  along  the  lonely  beaches  of  the  eastern  shore 
of  Maryland  and  Virginia ;  the  surfmen  and  light- 
house keepers  of  Albemarle,  Pamplico,  and  Core 
sounds,  in  North  Carolina ;  the  ground-nut  planters 
who  inhabit  the  uplands  that  skirt  the  network  of 
creeks,  marshes,  ponds,  and  sounds  from  Bogue 
Inlet  to  Cape  Fear;  the  piny-woods  people,  lum- 


INTRODUCTION.  Vll 

bermen,  and  turpentine  distillers  on  the  little  bluffs 
that  jut  into  the  fastnesses  of  the  great  swamps  of  the 
crooked  Waccamavv  River ;  the  representatives  of 
the  once  powerful  rice-planting  aristocracy  of  the 
Santee  and  Peedee  rivers ;  the  colored  men  of  the 
beautiful  sea-islands  along  the  coast  of  Georgia ; 
the  Floridians  living  between  the  St.  Mary's  River 
and  the  Suvvanee  —  the  wild  river  of  song ;  the 
islanders  on  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  where  I  terminated 
my  long  journey  ;  —  all  have  contributed  to  make  the 
e  Voyage  of  the  Paper  Canoe '  a  success." 

After  returning  from  this  paper-canoe  voyage,  the 
author  embarked  alone,  December  2,  1875,  m  a  cedar 
duck-boat  twelve  feet  in  length,  from  the  head  of 
the  Ohio  River,  at  Pittsburgh,  Pennsylvania,  and 
followed  the  Ohio  and  Mississippi  rivers  over  two 
thousand  miles  to  New  Orleans,  where  he  made  a 
portage  through  that  city  eastwardly  to  Lake  Pont- 
chartrain,  and  rowed  along  the  shores  of  the  Gulf 
of  Mexico  six  or  seven  hundred  miles,  to  Cedar 
Keys,  Florida,  the  terminus  of  his  paper-canoe 
voyage. 

While  on  these  two  voyages,  the  author  rowed  over 
five  thousand  miles,  meeting  with  but  one  accident, 
the  overturning  of  his  canoe  in  Delaware  Bay. 
He  returned  to  his  home  with  his  boats  in  good 
condition,  and  his  note-books,  charts,  &c.,  in  an 
excellent  state  of  preservation. 

At  the  request  of  the  "Board  on  behalf  of  the 
United  States  Executive  Department"  of  the  Cen- 


Vlll  INTRODUCTION. 

tennial  Exhibition  at  Philadelphia,  the  paper  canoe 
"Maria  Theresa,"  and  the  cedar  duck-boat  "Cen- 
tennial Republic,"  were  deposited  in  the  Smithsonian 
Department  of  the  United  States  Government  build- 
ing, during  the  summer  and  fall  of  1876. 

The  maps,  which  show  the  "route  followed  by 
the  paper  canoe,  have  been  drawn  and  engraved 
by  contract  at  the  United  States  Coast  Survey  Bu- 
reau, and  are  on  a  scale  of  y.-g^.TJTff-  As  t^ie  WOI~k 
is  based  on  the  results  of  actual  surveys,  these 
maps  may  be  considered,  for  their  size,  the  most 
complete  of  the  United  States  coast  ever  presented 
to  the  public. 

Much  credit  is  due  to  Messrs.  Waud  and  Merrill 
for  the  artistic  results  of  their  pencils,  and  to  Messrs. 
John  Andrew  &  Son  for  their  skill  in  engraving  the 
illustrations. 

To  the  readers  of  the  author's  first  book  of  trav- 
els, "  The  Pampas  and  Andes  :  a  Thousand  Miles' 
Walk  across  South  America,"  which  journey  was 
undertaken  when  he  was  but  seventeen  years  of 
age,  the  writer  would  say  that  their  many  kind  and 
appreciative  letters  have  prompted  him  to  send  forth 
this  second  book  of  travels  —  the  "  Voyage  of  the 
Paper  Canoe." 

LAKE  GEORGE,  WARREN  COUNTY,  N.  Y., 
JANUARY  i,  1878. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   I. 


THE  APPROACHES  TO  THE  WATER-WAY  OF  THE 
CONTINENT. 

ISLAND  OF  ST.  PAUL.  —  THE  PORTALS  OF  THE  GULF  OF  ST. 
LAWRENCE.  —  THE  EXTINCT  AUK.  —  ANTICOSTI  ISLAND. — 
ICEBERGS.  —  SAILORS'  SUPERSTITIONS.  —  THE  ESTUARY  OF 
THE  ST.  LAWRENCE.  —  TADOUSAC.  —  THE  SAGUENAY  RIV- 
ER.—  WHITE  WHALES.  —  QUEBEC 


CHAPTER   II. 

FROM   QUEBEC   TO   SOREL. 

THE  WATER-WAY  INTO  THE  CONTINENT. — THE  WESTERN  AND 
THE  SOUTHERN  ROUTE  TO  THE  GULF  OF  MEXICO.  —  THE 
MAYETA.  —  COMMENCEMENT  OF  THE  VOYAGE. — ASCENT  OF 
THE  RIVER  ST.  LAWRENCE.  —  LAKE  OF  ST.  PETER.  —  ACA- 
DIAN TOWN  OF  SOREL 12 

CHAPTER   III. 

FROM  THE  ST.  LAWRENCE  RIVER  TO  TICONDEROGA, 
LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

THE  RICHELIEU  RIVER.  —  ACADIAN  SCENES.  —  ST.  OURS.  —  ST. 
ANTOINE. —  ST.  MARKS.  —  BELCEIL.  —  CHAMBLY  CANAL.  —  ST. 
JOHNS.  —  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN. —  THE  GREAT  SHIP  CANAL. — 
DAVID  BODFISH'S  CAMP. — THE  ADIRONDACK  SURVEY.  —  A 
CANVAS  BOAT.  —  DIMENSIONS  OF  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN.  —  PORT 
KENT.  —  AUSABLE  CHASM.  —  ARRIVAL  AT  TICONDEROGA  .  .  22 

ix 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

FROM   LAKES   GEORGE   AND   CIIAMPLAIN  TO  THE 
HUDSON  RIVER. 

THE  DISCOVERY  OF  LAKE  GEORGE  BY  FATHER  JOGUES.  —  A 
PEDESTRIAN  JOURNEY.  —  THE  HERMIT  OF  THE  NARROWS.  — 
CONVENT  OF  ST.  MARY'S  OF  THE  LAKE.  —  THE  PAULIST 
FATHERS.  —  CANAL  ROUTE  FROM  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN  TO  AL- 

BANY. —  BODFISH    RETURNS    TO    NEW  JERSEY.  —  THE    LITTLE 

FLEET  IN  ITS  HAV&N  OK  REST     .............. 


CHAPTER  V. 

THE  AMERICAN  PAPER  BOAT  AND  ENGLISH  CANOES. 

THE  PECULIAR  CHARACTER  OF  THE  PAPER  BOAT.  —  THE  HIS- 
TORY OF  THE  ADOPTION  OF  PAPER  FOR  BOATS. — A  BOY'S 
INGENUITY.  —  THE  PROCESS  OF  BUILDING  PAPER  BOATS  DE- 
SCRIBED.—  COLLEGE  CLUBS  ADOPTING  THEM.  —  THE  GREAT 
VICTORIES  WON  BY  PAPER  OVER  WOODEN  SHELLS  IN  1876  .  .  57 

CHAPTER  VI. 

FROM  TROY  TO   PHILADELPHIA. 

PAPER  CANOE  MARIA  THERESA. —  THE  START. — THE  DESCF.NT 
OF  THE  HUDSON  RIVER.  —  CROSSING  THE  UPPER  BAY  OF 
NEW  YORK.  —  PASSAGE  OF  THE  KILLS.  —  RARITAN  RIVER. — 
THE  CANAL  ROUTE  FROM  NEW  BRUNSWICK  TO  THE  DELA- 
WARE RIVER.  —  FROM  BORDENTOWN  TO  PHILADELPHIA.  .  .71 

CHAPTER  VII. 

FROM  PHILADELPHIA  TO  CAPE    HENLOPEN. 

DESCENT  OF  DELAWARE  RIVER.  —  MY  FIRST  CAMP.  —  BOMBAY 
HOOK.  —  MURDERKILL  CREEK. — A  STORM  JN  DELAWARE 
BAY.  —  CAPSIZING  OF  THE  CANOE.  —  A  SWIM  FOR  LIFE. — 
THE  PERSIMMON  GROVE.  —  WILLOW  GROVE  INN.  —  THE 
LIGHTS  OF  CAPES  MAY  AND  HENLOPEN 98 


CONTENTS.  XI 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

FROM  CAPE   HENLOPEN  TO  NORFOLK,  VIRGINIA. 

THE  PORTAGE  TO  LOVE  CREEK. — THE  DELAWARE  WHIPPING- 
POST.—  REHOBOTH  AND  INDIAN  RIVER  BAYS.  —  A  PORTAGE 
TO  LITTLE  ASSAWAMAN  BAY.— ISLE  OF  WIGHT  BAY.— WIN- 
CHESTER PLANTATION. — CHINCOTEAGUE. — WATCHAPREAGUE 
INLET.  —  COBB'S  ISLAND.  —  CHERRYSTONE.  —  ARRIVAL  AT 
NORFOLK.  —  THE  "LANDMARK'S"  ENTERPRISE 114 

CHAPTER   IX. 

FROM  NORFOLK  TO  CAPE  HATTERAS. 

THE  ELIZABETH  RIVER.  —  THE  CANAL. — NORTH  LANDING 
RIVER.  —  CURRITUCK  SOUND.  —  ROANOKE  ISLAND. — VISIT 
TO  BODY  ISLAND  LIGHT-HOUSE. — A  ROMANCE  OF  HIS- 
TORY.—  PAMPLICO  SOUND. — THE  PAPER  CANOE  ARRIVES 
AT  CAPE  HATTERAS 148 

CHAPTER   X. 

FROM   CAPE   HATTERAS  TO   CAPE   FEAR,   NORTH 
CAROLINA. 

CAPE  HATTERAS  LIGHT.  —  HABITS  OF  BIRDS.  —  STORM  AT 
HATTERAS  INLET.  —  MILES  OF  WRECKS. — THE  YACHT  JU- 
LIA SEARCHING  FOR  THE  PAPER  CANOE.  —  CHASED  BY 

PORPOISES.  —  MARSH  TACKIES.  —  OCRACOKE  INLET.  —  A 
GRAVEYARD  BEING  SWALLOWED  UP  BY  THE  SEA.  —  CORE 
SOUND.  —  THREE  WEDDINGS  AT  HUNTING  QUARTERS.  — 
MOREHEAD  CITY.  —  NEWBERN.  —  SWANSBORO.  —  A  PEANUT 
PLANTATION.  —  THE  ROUTE  TO  CAPE  FEAR 180 

CHAPTER   XL 

FROM    CAPE    FEAR    TO    CHARLESTON,    SOUTH 
CAROLINA. 

A  PORTAGE  TO  LAKE  WACCAMAW.  —  SUBMERGED  SWAMPS. — 
'  NIGHT  AT  A  TURPENTINE  DISTILLERY.  —  A  DISMAL  WIL- 


Xii  CONTENTS. 

DERNESS.  —  OWLS  AND  MISTLETOE.  —  CRACKERS  AND  NE- 
GROES.—  ACROSS  THE  SOUTH  CAROLINA  LINE. — A  CRACK- 
ER'S IDEA  OF  HOSPITALITY.  —  POT  BLUFF.  —  PEEDEE 
RIVER.  —  GEORGETOWN.— WINYAH  BAY.  —  THE  RICE  PLAN- 
TATIONS OF  THE  SANTEE  RIVERS.  —  A  NIGHT  WITH  THE 
SANTEE  NEGROES.  —  ARRIVAL  AT  CHARLESTON  .  .  216 


CHAPTER    XII. 
FROM  CHARLESTON  TO  SAVANNAH,  GEORGIA. 

THE  INTERIOR  WATER  ROUTE  TO  JEHOSSEE  ISLAND.  —  GOV- 
ERNOR AIKEN'S  MODEL  RICE  PLANTATION.  —  LOST  IN  THE 
HORNS.  —  ST.  HELENA  SOUND.  —  LOST  IN  THE  NIGHT.  — 
THE  PHANTOM  SHIP.  —  THE  FINLANDER'S  WELCOME. — A 
NIGHT  ON  THE  EMPEROR'S  OLD  YACHT. — THE  PHOSPHATE 
MINES.  —  COOSAW  AND  BROAD  RIVERS.  —  PORT  ROYAL 
SOUND  AND  CALIBOGUE  SOUND.  —  CUFFY'S  HOME.  —  AR- 
RIVAL IN  GEORGIA.  —  RECEPTIONS  AT  GREENWICH  SHOOT- 
ING-PARK   261 

CHAPTER   XIII. 

FROM  THE   SAVANNAH   RIVER  TO   FLORIDA. 

ROUTE  TO  THE  SEA  ISLANDS  OF  GEORGIA.  —  STORM-BOUND 
ON  GREEN  ISLAND.  —  OSSABAW  ISLAND.  —  ST.  CATHERINE'S 
SOUND.  —  SAPELO  ISLAND.  —  THE  MUD  OF  MUD  RIVER.  — 
NIGHT  IN  A  NEGRO  CABIN.  — "DE  SHOUTINGS"  ON  DOBOY 
ISLAND.  —  BROUGHTON  ISLAND.  —  ST.  SIMON'S  AND  JEKYL 
ISLANDS.  —  INTERVIEW  WITH  AN  ALLIGATOR.  —  A  NIGHT 
IN  JOINTER  HAMMOCK.  —  CUMBERLAND  ISLAND  AND  ST. 
MARY'S  RIVER.  —  FAREWELL  TO  THE  SEA 291 

CHAPTER   XIV. 

ST.  MARY'S  RIVER  AND  THE  SUWANEE  WILDERNESS. 

A  PORTAGE  TO  DUTTON.  —  DESCENT  OF  THE  ST.  MARY'S 
RIVER.  —  FETE  GIVEN  BY  THE  CITIZENS  TO  THE  PAPER 


CONTENTS.  Xlll 

CANOE.  — THE  PROPOSED  CANAL  ROUTE  ACROSS  FLORIDA.  •- 
A  PORTAGE  TO  THE  SUWANEE  RIVER.  —  A  NEGRO  SPEAKS 
ON  ELECTRICITY  AND  THE  TELEGRAPH.  —  A  FREEDMAN'S 
SERMON 313 


CHAPTER   XV. 

DOWN  UPON  THE   SUWANEE   RIVER. 

THE  RICH  FOLIAGE  OF  THE  RIVER.  —  COLUMBUS.  —  ROLINS' 
BLUFF.  —  OLD  TOWN  HAMMOCK.  —  A  HUNTER  KILLED  BY 
A  PANTHER.  —  DANGEROUS  SERPENTS.  —  CLAY  LANDING.  — 
THE  MARSHES  OF  THE  COAST.  —  BRADFORD'S  ISLAND.  — 
MY  LAST  CAMP.  —  THE  VOYAGE  ENDED 334 


LIST   OP   MAPS 

DRAWN    AND   ENGRAVED   AT  THE 

UNITED    STATES    COAST   SURVEY   BUREAU, 

FOR  THE   "VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE." 

PAOR 

i.  GENERAL  MAP  OF  ROUTES  FOLLOWED  BY  THE  AU- 
THOR DURING  TWO  VOYAGES  MADE  TO  THE  GULF 
OF  MEXICO, Opposite  r 


GUIDE    MAPS    OF    CANOE    ROUTE. 

2.  FROM  QUEBEC,  CANADA,  TO  PLATTSBURGH,  NEW  YORK 

STATE, 12 

3.  FROM  PLATTSBURGH  TO  ALBANY, 42 

4.  FROM  ALBANY  TO  NEW  YORK  CITY, 71 

5.  FROM   NEW   YORK   CITY   TO   CAPE  HENLOPEN,  DEL- 

AWARE,      98 

6.  FROM    CAPE    HENLOPEN,    DELAWARE,    TO   NORFOLK, 

VIRGINIA, 114 

7.  FROM  NORFOLK,  VIRGINIA,  TO  BOGUE   INLET,  NORTH 

CAROLINA, 148 

8.  FROM  BOGUE    INLET,   NORTH    CAROLINA,   TO    BULL'S 

BAY,  SOUTH  CAROLINA, 180 

9.  FROM  BULL'S  BAY,  SOUTH  CAROLINA,  TO  ST.  SIMON'S 

SOUND,  GEORGIA, 261 

10.   FROM  ST.  SIMON'S  SOUND,  GEORGIA,  TO  CEDAR  KEYS, 

FLORIDA, 317 

xiv 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


ENGRAVED  BY  JOHN  ANDREW  &  SON. 

PAGE 

HOME  OF  THE  ALLIGATOR.    (Frontispiece.) 

GREAT  AUK  (A lea  impennis).     Extinct n 

ANCHORED  AT  LAST, 56 

A  FULL-RIGGED  NAUTILUS  CAXOE, 57 

THE  ROB  ROY  CANOE, 68 

THE  ABORIGINAL  TYPE, 74 

Photographed  at  Disco,  Greenland 

THE   IMPROVED   TYPE.  —  PAPER   CANOE   MARIA  THE- 
RESA,       74 

A  CAPSIZE  IN  DELAWARE  BAY, 108 

DELAWARE  WHIPPING-POST  AND  PILLORY, 147 

BODY  ISLAND  LIGHT  HOUSE, 179 

CROSSING  HATTERAS  INLET, 190 

RECEPTION  AT  CHARLESTON  POST-OFFICE, 259 

THE  PANTHER'S  LEAP, 345 

THE  VOYAGE  ENDED, 35 1 

xv 


MAP  OF    ROUTES 
FOLLOWED  BY  N.H. BISHOP 
IN  PAPER  CANOE   MARIA  THERESA' 
AND  DUCK  BOAT  "C  EN  TEN  N  I  AL  REPUBLIC"        ,V 


L 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 


CHAPTER    I. 

THE   APPROACHES   TO   THE   WATER-WAY   OF   THE 
CONTINENT. 

ISLAND  OF  ST.  PAUL.  —  THE  PORTALS  OF  THE  GULF  OF  ST. 
LAWRENCE.  —  THE  EXTINCT  AUK.  —  ANTICOSTI  ISLAND.  — 
ICEBERGS.  —  SAILORS'  SUPERSTITIONS.  —  THE  ESTUARY  OF  THE 
ST.  LAWRENCE.  —  TADOUSAC. — THE  SAGUENAY  RIVER.  —  WHITE 
WHALES.  —  QUEBEC. 

WHILE  on  his  passage  to  the  ports  of  the 
St.  Lawrence  River,  the  mariner  first 
sights  the  little  island  of  St.  Paul,  situated  in 
the  waste  of  waters  between  Cape  Ray,  the  south- 
western point  of  Newfoundland  on  the  north, 
and  Cape  North,  the  northeastern  projection  of 
Cape  Breton  Island  on  the  south.  Across  this 
entrance  to  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence  from  cape 
to  cape  is  a  distance  of  fifty-four  nautical  miles; 
and  about  twelve  miles  east-northeast  from  Cape 
North  the  island  of  St.  Paul,  with  its  three  hills 
and  two  light-towers,  rises  from  the  sea  with 
deep  waters  on  every  side. 

This  wide  inlet  into  the  gulf  may  be  called  the 
i  i 


2  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CAN 

middle  portal,  for  at  the  northern  end  of  New- 
foundland, between"  the  great  island  and  the 
coast  of  Labrador,  another  entrance  exists, 
which  is  known  as  the  Straits  of  Belle  Isle, 
and  is  sometimes  called  "the  shorter  passage 
from  England."  Still  to  the  south  of  the  mid- 
dle entrance  is  another  and  a  very  narrow  one, 
known  as  the  Gut  of  Canso,  which  separates 
the  island  of  Cape  Breton  from  Nova  Scotia. 
Through  this  contracted  thoroughfare  the  tides 
run  with  great  force. 

One  hundred  years  ago,  as  the  seaman  ap- 
proached the  dangerous  entrance  of  St.  Paul, 
now  brightened  at  night  by  its  light-towers,  his 
heart  was  cheered  by  the  sight  of  immense 
flocks  of  a  peculiar  sea-fowl,  now  extinct. 
When  he  saw  upon  the  water  the  Great  Auk 
(Alca  impennis},  which  he  ignorantly  called 
"a  pengwin,"  he  knew  that  land  was  near  at 
hand,  for  while  he  met  other  species  far  out 
upon  the  broad  Atlantic,  the  Great  Auk,  his 
"pengwin,"  kept  near  the  coast.  Not  only  was 
this  now  extinct  bird  his  indicator  of  proximity 
to  the  land,  but  so  strange  were  its  habits,  and 
so  innocent  was  its  nature,  that  it  permitted 
itself  to  be  captured  by  boat-loads;  and  thus 
were  the  ships  re-victualled  at  little  cost  or 
trouble.  Without  any  market-value  a  century 
ago,  the  Great  Auk  now,  as  a  stuffed  skin,  rep- 
resents a  value  of  fifteen  hundred  dollars  in 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  3 

gold.  There  are  but  seventy-two  specimens  of 
this  bird  in  the  museums  of  Europe  and  Amer- 
ica, besides  a  few  skeletons,  and  sixty-five  of  its 
eggs.  It  was  called  in  ancient  days  Gare-fowl, 
and  was  the  Geirfugl  of  the  Icelander. 

Captain  Whitbourne,  who  wrote  in  the  reign 
of  James  the  First,  quaintly  said:  "These  Pen- 
gwins  are  as  bigge  as  Geese,  and  flye  not,  for 
they  have  but  a  little  short  wing,  and  they  mul- 
tiply so  infinitely  upon  a  certain  flat  island  that 
men  drive  them  from  thence  upon  a  board  into 
their  boats  by  hundreds  at  a  time,  as  if  God  had 
made  the  innocency  of  so  poor  a  creature  to 
become  such  an  admerable  instrument  for  the 
sustenation  of  man." 

In  a  copy  of  the  English  Pilot,  "  fourth  book," 
published  in  1761,  which  I  presented  to  the 
library  of  the  United  States  Coast  Survey,  is 
found  this  early  description  of  this  now  extinct 
American  bird:  "They  never  go  beyond  the 
bank  [Newfoundland]  as  others  do,  for  they  are 
always  on  it,  or  in  it,  several  of  them  together, 
sometimes  more  but  never  less  than  two  to- 
gether. They  are  large  fowls,  about  the  size 
of  a  goose,  a  coal-black  head  and  back,  with  a 
white  belly  and  a  milk-white  spot  under  one  of 
their  eyes,  which  nature  has  ordered  to  be  under 
their  right  eye." 

Thus  has  the  greed  of  the  sailor  and  pot- 
hunter swept  from  the  face  of  the  earth  an  old 


4  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

pilot  —  a  trusty  aid  to  navigation.  Now  the 
light-house,  the  fog-gun,  and  the  improved  chart 
have  taken  the  place  of  the  extinct  auk  as  aids 
to  navigation,  and  the  sailor  of  to-day  sees  the 
bright  flashes  of  St.  Paul's  lights  when  nearly 
twenty  miles  at  sea.  Having  passed  the  little 
isle,  the  ship  enters  the  great  Gulf  of  St.  Law- 
rence, and  passes  the  Magdalen  Islands,  shaping 
its  course  as  wind  and  weather  permit  towards 
the  dreaded,  rocky  coast  of  Anticosti.  From  the 
entrance  of  the  gulf  to  the  island  of  Anticosti 
the  course  to  be  followed  is  northwesterly  about 
one  hundred  and  thirty-five  nautical  miles.  The 
island  which  divides  an  upper  arm  of  the  gulf 
into  two  wide  channels  is  one  hundred  and 
twenty-three  miles  long,  and  from  ten  to  thirty 
miles  wide.  Across  the  entrance  of  this  great 
arm,  or  estuary,  from  the  high  cape  of  Gaspe 
on  the  southern  shore  of  the  mainland  to  Anti- 
costi in  the  narrowest  place,  is  a  distance  of 
about  forty  miles,  and  is  called  the  South  Chan- 
nel. From  the  north  side  of  the  island  and  near 
its  west  end  to  the  coast  of  Labrador  the  North 
Channel  is  fifteen  miles  wide.  The  passage  from 
St.  Paul  to  Anticosti  is  at  times  dangerous.  Here 
is  an  area  of  strong  currents,  tempestuous  winds, 
and  dense  fogs.  When  the  wind  is  fair  for  an 
upward  run,  it  is  the  wind  which  usually  brings 
misty  weather.  Then,  from  the  icy  regions  of 
the  Arctic  circle,  from  the  Land  of  Desolation, 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  5 

come  floating  through  the  Straits  of  Belle  Isle 
the  dangerous  bergs  and  ice-fields.  Early  in  the 
spring  these  ice  rafts  are  covered  with  colonies 
of  seals  which  resort  to  them  for  the  purpose  of 
giving  birth  to  their  young.  On  these  icy  cra- 
dles, rocked  by  the  restless  waves,  tens  of  thou- 
sands of  young  seals  are  nursed  for  a  few  days; 
then,  answering  the  loud  calls  of  their  mothers, 
they  accompany  them  into  the  briny  deep,  there 
to  follow  the  promptings  of  their  instincts.  The 
loud  roarings  of  the  old  seals  on  these  ice  rafts 
can  be  heard  in  a  quiet  night  for  several  miles, 
and  strike  terror  into  the  heart  of  the  super- 
stitious sailor  who  is  ignorant  of  the  origin  of 
the  tumult. 

Frequently  dense  fogs  cover  the  water,  and 
while  slowly  moving  along,  guided  only  by  the 
needle,  a  warning  sound  alarms  the  watchful 
master.  Through  the  heavy  mists  comes  the 
roar  of  breaking  waters.  He  listens.  The  dull, 
swashy  noise  of  waves  meeting  with  resistance 
is  now  plainly  heard.  The  atmosphere  becomes 
suddenly  chilled:  it  is  the  breath  of  the  ice- 
berg! 

Then  the  shrill  cry  of  "All  hands  on  deck!  " 
startles  the  watch  below  from  the  bunks.  Anx- 
iously now  does  the  whole  ship's  company  lean 
upon  the  weather-rail  and  peer  out  into  the  thick 
air  with  an  earnestness  born  of  terror.  "  Surely," 
says  the  master  to  his  mate,  "  I  am  past  the  Mag- 


6  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

dalens,  and  still  far  from  Anticosti,  yet  we  have 
breakers;  which  way  can  we  turn?"  The  riddle 
solves  itself,  for  out  of  the  gloom  come  whitened 
walls,  beautiful  but  terrible  to  behold. 

Those  terror-stricken  sailors  watch  the  slowly 
moving  berg  as  it  drifts  past  their  vessel,  fearing 
that  their  own  ship  will  be  drawn  towards  it 
from  the  peculiar  power  of  attraction  they  believe 
the  iceberg  to  possess.  And  as  they  watch, 
against  the  icy  base  of  the  mountain  in  the  sea 
the  waves  beat  and  break  as  if  expending  their 
forces  upon  a  rocky  shore.  Down  the  furrowed 
sides  of  the  disintegrating  berg  streamlets  trickle, 
and  miniature  cascades  leap,  mingling  their 
waters  with  the  briny  sea.  The  intruder  slowly 
drifts  out  of  sight,  disappearing  in  the  gloom, 
while  the  sailor  thanks  his  lucky  stars  that  he  has 
rid  himself  of  another  danger.  The  ill-omened 
Anticosti,  the  graveyard  of  many  seamen,  is  yet 
to  be  passed.  The  ship  skirts  along  its  southern 
shore,  a  coast  destitute  of  bays  or  harbors  of 
any  kind,  rock-bound  and  inhospitable. 

Wrecks  of  vessels  strew  the  rocky  shores,  and 
four  light-houses  warn  the  mariner  of  danger. 
Once  past  the  island  the  ship  is  well  within  the 
estuary  of  the  gulf  into  which  the  St.  Lawrence 
River  flows,  contributing  the  waters  of  the  great 
lakes  of  the  continent  to  the  sea.  As  the  north 
coast  is  approached  the  superstitious  sailor  is 
again  alarmed  if,  perchance,  the  compass-needle 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  7 

shows  sympathy  with  some  disturbing  element, 
the  cause  of  which  he  believes  to  exist  in  the 
mountains  which  rise  along  the  shore.  He  re- 
peats the  stories  of  ancient  skippers,  of  vessels 
having  been  lured  out  of  their  course  by  the 
deviation  of  the  guiding-needle,  which  suc- 
cumbed to  the  potent  influence  exerted  in  those 
hills  of  iron  ore;  heeding  not  the  fact  that  the 
disturbing  a^ent  is  the  iron  on  board  of  his  own 

O  O 

ship,  and  not  the  magnetic  oxide  of  the  distant 
mines. 

The  ship  being  now  within  the  estuary  of  the 
St.  Lawrence  River,  must  encounter  many  risks 
before  she  reaches  the  true  mouth  of  the  river, 
at  the  Bic  Islands. 

The  shores  along  this  arm  of  the  gulf  are  wild 
and  sombre.  Rocky  precipices  frown  upon  the 
swift  tidal  current  that  rushes  past  their  bases. 
A  few  small  settlements  of  fishermen  and  pilots, 
like  Metis,  Father  Point,  and  Rimousky,  are 
discovered  at  long  intervals  along  the  coast. 

In  these  St.  Lawrence  hamlets,  and  through- 
out Lower  Canada,  a  patois  is  spoken  which  is 
unintelligible  to  the  Londoner  or  Parisian;  and 
these  villagers,  the  descendants  of  the  French 
colonists,  may  be  said  to  be  a  people  destitute 
of  a  written  language,  and  strangers  to  a  litera- 
ture. 

While  holding  a  commission  from  Francis  the 
First,  king  of  France,  Jacques  Cartier  discovered 


8  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  during  his  first  voy- 
age of  exploration  in  the  new  world.  lie  en- 
tered the  gulf  on  St.  Lawrence's  day,  in  the 
spring  of  1534,  and  named  it  in  honor  of  the 
event  Cartier  explored  no  farther  to  the  west 
than  about  the  mouth  of  the  estuary  which  is 
divided  by  the  island  of  Anticosti.  It  was  dur- 
ing his  second  voyage,  in  the  following  year, 
that  he  discovered  and  explored  the  great  river. 
Of  the  desolate  shores  of  Labrador,  on  the 
north  coast,  he  said,  "  It  might  as  well  as  not 
be  taken  for  the  country  assigned  by  God  to 
Cain." 

The  distance  from  Quebec  to  Cape  Gaspe, 
measured  upon  a  course  which  a  steamer  would 
be  compelled  to  take,  is  four  hundred  and  seven 
statute  miles.  The  ship  first  enters  the  current 
of  the  river  St.  Lawrence  at  the  two  Bic 
Islands,  where  it  has  a  width  of  about  twenty 
miles.  By  consulting  most  maps  the  reader  will 
find  that  geographers  carry  the  river  nearly  two 
hundred  miles  beyond  its  usual  current.  In  fact, 
they  appropriate  the  whole  estuary,  which,  in 
places,  is  nearly  one  hundred  miles  in  width, 
and  call  it  a  river  — a  river  which  lacks  the 
characteristics  of  a  river,  the  currents  of  which 
vary  with  the  winds  and  tidal  influences,  and 
the  waters  of  which  are  as  salt  as  those  of  the 
briny  deep. 

Here,  in  the  mouth  of  the  river,  at  the  Bics, 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  9 

secure  anchorage  for  vessels  may  be  found;  but 
below,  in  the  estuary,  for  a  distance  of  more 
than  two  hundred  and  forty-five  miles,  to  Gaspo, 
there  is  but  one  port  of  refuge,  that  of  Seven 
Islands,  on  the  north  coast. 

As  the  ship  ascends  the  river  from  Bic  Islands, 
a  passage  of  about  one  hundred  and  sixty  statute 
miles  to  Quebec,  she  struggles  against  a  strong 
current.  Picturesque  islands  and  little  villages, 
such  as  St.  Andre,  St.  Anne,  St.  Rogue,  St.  Jean, 
and  St.  Thomas,  relieve  the  monotony.  But  very 
different  is  the  winter  aspect  of  this  river,  when 
closed  to  navigation  by  ice  from  November  until 
spring.  Of  the  many  tributaries  which  give 
strength  to  the  current  of  the  St.  Lawrence  and 
contribute  to  its  glory,  the  Saguenay  River  with 
its  remarkable  scenery  is  counted  one  of  the 
wonders  of  our  continent.  It  joins  the  great 
river  from  the  north  shore,  about  one  hundred 
and  thirty-four  statute  miles  below  Quebec. 
Upon  the  left  bank,  at  its  mouth,  nestles  the 
little  village  of  Tadousac,  the  summer  retreat 
of  the  governor-general  of  the  Dominion  of 
Canada. 

American  history  claims  for  the  Roman  Cath- 
olic church  of  this  settlement  an  age  second 
only  to  that  of  the  old  Spanish  cathedral  at  St. 
Augustine,  Florida.  For  three  hundred  years 
the  storms  of  winter  have  beaten  upon  its  walls, 
but  it  stands  a  silent  yet  eloquent  monument  of 


IO  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

the  pious  zeal  of  the  ancient  Fathers,  who  came 
to  conquer  Satan  in  the  wilderness  of  a  new 
world.  The  Saguenay  has  become  the  "  Mecca" 
of  northern  tourists,  ever  attracting  them  with 
its  wild  and  fascinating  scenery.  Capes  Eternity 
and  Trinity  guard  the  entrance  to  Eternity  Bay. 
The  first  towers  sublimely  to  a  height  of  eigh- 
teen hundred  feet,  the  other  is  only  a  little 
lower.  A  visit  to  this  mysterious  river,  with  its 
deep,  dark  waters  and  picturesque  views,  will 
repay  the  traveller  for  the  discomforts  of  a  long 
and  expensive  journey. 

Where  the  turbulent  current  of  the  Saguenay 
mingles  angrily  with  that  of  the  St.  Lawrence, 
there  may  be  seen  disporting  in  the  waves  the 
white  whale  of  aquariums,  which  is  not  a  whale 
at  all,  but  a  true  porpoise  {Delphinopterus  ca- 
todon,  as  he  is  now  called  by  naturalists),  having 
teeth  in  the  jaws,  and  being  destitute  of  the 
fringed  bone  of  the  whalebone  whales.  This 
interesting  creature  is  very  abundant  in  the  Arc- 
tic Ocean  on  both  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific  sides, 
and  has  its  southern  limits  in  the  Gulf  of  St. 
Lawrence,  although  one  is  occasionally  seen  in 
the  Bay  of  Fundy,  and  it  is  reported  to  have 
been  observed  about  Cape  Cod,  on  the  Massa- 
chusetts coast. 

As  the  ship  nears  the  first  great  port  of  the 
St.  Lawrence  River,  the  large  and  well  culti- 
vated island  of  Orleans  is  passed,  and  the  bold 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  II 

fortifications  of  Quebec,  high  up  on  the  face  of 
Point  Diamond,  and  flanked  by  the  houses  of  the 
French  city,  break  upon  the  vision  of  the  mari- 
ner. To  the  right,  and  below  the  city,  which 
Champlain  founded,  and  in  which  his  unknown 
ashes  repose,  are  the  beautiful  Falls  of  Montmo- 
rency,  gleaming  in  all  the  whiteness  of  their 
falling  waters  and  mists,  like  the  bridal  veil  of  a 
giantess.  The  vessel  has  safely  made  her  pas- 
sage, and  now  comes  to  anchor  in  the  Basin  of 
Quebec.  The  sails  are  furled,  and  the  heart  of 
the  sailor  is  merry,  for  the  many  dangers  which 
beset  the  ship  while  approaching  and  entering 
the  great  water-way  of  the  continent  are  now 
over. 


GREAT      AUK. 


12  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 


CHAPTER    II. 

FROM    QUEBEC   TO   SOREL. 

THE  WATER-WAY  INTO  THE  CONTINENT. — THE  WESTERN  AM) 
THE  SOUTHERN  ROUTE  TO  THE  GULF  OF  MEXICO. — THE  MAYETA. 
—  COMMENCEMENT  OF  THE  VOYAGE.  —  ASCENT  OF  THE  K I VEK 
ST.  LAWRENCE.  —  LAKE  OF  ST.  PETER. —  ACADIAN  TOWN  OF 
SOREL. 

THE  canoe  traveller  can  ascend  the  St.  Law- 
rence River  to  Lake  Ontario,  avoiding  the 
rapids  and  shoals  by  making  use  of  seven  canals 
of  a  total  length  of  forty-seven  miles.  He  may 
then  skirt  the  shores  of  Lake  Qntario,  and  enter 
Lake  Erie  by  the  canal  which  passes  around  the 
celebrated  Falls  of  Niagara.  From  the  last  great 
inland  sea  he  can  visit  lakes  Huron,  Michigan, 
and,  with  the  assistance  of  a  short  canal,  the 
grandest  of  all,  Superior.  When  he  has  reached 
the  town  of  Duluth,  at  the  southwestern  end  of 
Superior,  which  is  the  terminus  of  the  Northern 
Pacific  Railroad,  our  traveller  will  have  paddled 
(following  the  contours  of  the  land)  over  two 
thousand  miles  from  salt  water  into  the  Ameri- 
can continent  without  having  been  compelled  to 
make  a  portage  with  his  little  craft.  Let  him 
now  make  his  first  portage  westward,  over  the 


M— —  A—  — D 


Route,  of 

CANOE   MAYETA 

Fnnn  Quebec  Canada  to  riullxlnnyh  X.Y. 

Ha,  Si.J,a»-reiu-f  mitt  Kirln'lii-ii  Jfn-frs 

Follow!   :,v  \.H.1iixhn,, 

in  ///74 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  13 

railroad  one  hundred  and  fifteen  miles  from  Du- 
luth,  to  the  crossing  of  the  Mississippi  River  at 
Brainerd,  and  launch  his  boat  on  the  Father  of 
Waters,  which  he  may  descend  with  but  few 
interruptions  to  below  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony, 
at  Minneapolis;  or,  if  he  will  take  his  boat  by 
rail  from  Duluth,  one  hundred  and  fifty-five  miles, 
to  St.  Paul,  he  can  launch  his  canoe,  and  follow 
the  steamboat  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  This  is 
the  longest,  and  may  be  called  the  canoeist's 
western  route  to  the  great  Southern  Sea.  In 
St.  Louis  County,  Minnesota,  the  water  from 
"  Seven  Beaver  Lakes  "  flows  south-southwest, 
and  joins  the  Flood-Wood  River;  there  taking 
an  easterly  course  towards  Duluth,  it  empties 
into  Lake  Superior.  This  is  the  St.  Louis  River, 
the  first  tributary  of  the  mighty  St.  Lawrence 
system.  From  the  head  waters  of  the  St.  Louis 
to  the  mouth  of  the  St.  Lawrence  at  Bic  Islands, 
where  it  enters  the  great  estuary,  the  length  of 
this  great  water  system,  including  the  great 
Lakes,  is  about  two  thousand  miles.  The  area  thus 
drained  by  the  St.  Lawrence  River  is  nearly  six 
millions  of  square  miles.  The  largest  craft  can 
ascend  it  to  Quebec,  and  smaller  ones  to  Mon- 
treal; above  which  city,  navigation  being  im- 
peded by  rapids,  the  seven  canals  before  men- 
tioned have  been  constructed  that  vessels  may 
avoid  this  danger  while  voyaging  to  Lake  On- 
tario. 


14  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

The  southern  and  shorter  coast  route  to  the 
gulf  leaves  the  great  river  at  the  Acadian  town 
of  Sorel,  where  the  quiet  Richelieu  flows  into 
the  St.  Lawrence  River.  Of  the  two  long  routes 

O 

offered  me  I  selected  the  southern,  leaving  the 
other  to  be  traversed  at  some  future  time.  To 
follow  the  contours  of  rivers,  bays,  and  sounds, 
a  voyage  of  at  least  twenty-five  hundred  miles 
was  before  me.  It  was  my  intention  to  explore 
the  connecting  watercourses  southward,  without 
making  a  single  portage,  as  far  as  Cape  Henlo- 
pen,  a  sandy  headland  at  the  entrance  of  Dela- 
ware Bay;  there,  by  making  short  portages  from 
one  watercourse  to  another,  to  navigate  along 
the  interior  of  the  Atlantic  coast  to  the  St.  Mary's 
River,  which  is  a  dividing  line  between  Georgia 
and  Florida.  From  the  Atlantic  coast  of  south- 
ern Georgia,  I  proposed  to  cross  the  peninsula 
of  Florida  by  way  of  the  St.  Mary's  River,  to 
Okefenokee  Swamp;  thence,  by  portage,  to  the 
Suwanee  River,  and  by  descending  that  stream 
(the  boundary  line  of  a  geographical  division  — 
eastern  and  middle  Florida),  to  reach  the  coast 
of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  which  was  to  be  the  ter- 
minal point  of  my  canoe  journey.  Charts,  maps, 
and  sea-faring  men  had  informed  me  that  about 
twenty-three  hundred  miles  of  the  trip  could  be 
made  upon  land-locked  waters,  but  about  two 
hundred  miles  of  voyaging  must  be  done  upon 
the  open  Atlantic  Ocean. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  15 

As  I  now  write,  I  smilingly  remember  how 
erroneous  were  my  advisers;  for,  while  prose- 
cuting my  voyage,  I  was  but  once  upon  the  open 
sea,  and  then  through  mistake  and  for  only  a 
few  minutes.  Had  I  then  known  that  I  could 
have  followed  the  whole  route  in  a  small  boat 
upon  strictly  interior  waters,  I  should  have  pad- 
dled from  the  Basin  of  Quebec  in  the  light 
paper  canoe  which  I  afterwards  adopted  at  Troy, 
and  which  carried  me  alone  in  safety  two  thou- 
sand miles  to  the  warm  regions  of  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico.  The  counsels  of  old  seamen  had  influ- 
enced me  to  adopt  a  large  wooden  clinker-built, 
decked  canoe,  eighteen  feet  long,  forty-five  inches 
beam,  and  twenty-four  inches  depth  of  hold, 
which  weighed,  with  oars,  rudder,  mast  and  sail, 
above  three  hundred  pounds.  The  Mayeta  was 
built  by  an  excellent  workman,  Mr.  J.  S.  Lam- 
son,  at  Bordentown,  New  Jersey.  The  boat  was 
sharp  at  each  end,  and  the  lines  from  amidships 
to  stem,  and  from  amidships  to  sternpost,  were 
alike.  She  possessed  that  essential  characteristic 
of  seaworthiness,  abundant  sheer.  The  deck  was 
pierced  for  a  cockpit  in  the  centre,  which  was 
six  feet  long  and  surrounded  by  a  high  combing 
to  keep  out  water  The  builder  had  done  his 
best  to  make  the  Mayeta  serve  for  rowing  and 
sailing — a  most  difficult  combination,  and  one 
not  usually  successful. 

On   the   morning  of  July  4,    1874,   I  entered 


I 6  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

the  Basin  of  Quebec  with  my  wooden  canoe 
and  my  waterman,  one  David  Bodfish,  a  "  shore- 
man "  of  New  Jersey.  After  weeks  of  prepara- 
tion and  weary  travel  by  rail  and  by  water,  we 
had  steamed  up  the  Gulf  and  the  River  of  St. 
Lawrence  to  this  our  most  northern  point  of 
departure.  We  viewed  the  frowning  heights 
upon  which  was  perched  the  city  of  Quebec 
with  unalloyed  pleasure,  and  eagerly  scrambled 
up  the  high  banks  to  see  the  interesting  old  city. 
The  tide,  which  rises  at  the  city  piers  eighteen 
feet  in  the  spring,  during  the  neaps  reaches  only 
thirteen  feet.  Late  in  the  afternoon  the  incom- 
ing tide  promised  to  assist  us  in  ascending  the 
river,  the  downward  current  of  which  runs  with 
torrent-like  velocity,  and  with  a  depth  abreast 
the  city  of  from  sixteen  to  twenty  fathoms. 
Against  this  current  powerful  steamers  run  one 
hundred  and  eighty  miles  up  the  river  to  Mon- 
treal in  eighteen  hours,  and  descend  in  fourteen 
hours,  including  two  hours'  stoppages  at  Sorel 
and  Three  Rivers.  At  six  o'clock  p.  M.  we 
•pushed  off  into  the  river,  which  is  about  two- 
thirds  of  a  mile  wide  at  this  point,  and  com- 
menced our  voyage;  but  fierce  gusts  of  wind 
arose  ana  drove  us  to  the  shelter  of  Mr.  Hamil- 
ton's lumber-yard  on  the  opposite  shore,  where 
we  passed  the  night,  sleeping  comfortably  upon 
cushions  which  we  spread  on  the  narrow  floor 
of  the  boat.  Sunday  was  to  be  spent  in  camp; 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.       17 

but  when  dawn  appeared  we  were  not  allowed 
to  build  a  fire  on  the  lumber  pier,  and  were 
forced  to  ascend  the  St.  Lawrence  in  quest  of  a 
retired  spot  above  the  landing  of  St.  Croix,  on 
the  right  bank  of  the  river.  The  tide  had  been 
a  high  one  when  we  beached  our  boat  at  the  foot 
of  a  bluff.  Two  hours  later  the  receding  tide 
left  us  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the  current. 
The  river  was  fully  two  miles  wide  at  this  point, 
and  so  powerful  was  its  current  that  steamers 
anchored  in  it  were  obliged  to  keep  their  wheels 
slowly  revolving  to  ease  the  strain  on  their 
anchors.  Early  on  Monday  morning  we  beheld 
writh  consternation  that  the  tide  did  riot  reach 
our  boat,  and  by  dint  of  hard  labor  we  con- 
structed a  railroad  from  a  neighboring  fence, 
and  moved  the  Mayeta  on  rollers  upon  it  over 
the  mud  and  the  projecting  reef  of  rocks  some 
five  hundred  feet  to  the  water,  then  embarking, 
rowed  close  along  the  shore  to  avoid  the  current. 
A  deep  fog  settled  down  upon  us,  and  we  were 
driven  to  camp  again  on  the  left  bank,  where  a 
cataract  tumbled  over  the  rocks  fifty  or  more 
feet.  Tuesday  was  a  sunny  day,  but  the  usual 
head  wind  greeted  us.  The  water  W9uld  rise 
along-shore  on  the  flood  three  hours  before  the 
downward  current  was  checked  in  the  channel 
of  the  river.  We  could  not  place  any  depend- 
ence in  the  regularity  of  the  tides,  as  strong 
winds  and  freshets  in  the  tributaries  influence 


l8  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

them.  Earlier  in  the  season,  as  a  writer  re- 
marks, "until  the  upland  waters  have  all  run 
down,  and  the  great  rivers  have  discharged  the 
freshets  caused  by  thawing  of  the  snows  in  the 
spring  of  the  year,  this  current,  in  spite  of  tides, 
will  always  run  down."  To  the  uninitiated  the 
spectacle  is  a  curious  one,  of  the  flood  tide  rising 
and  swelling  the  waters  of  a  great  river  some 
eight  to  ten  feet,  while  the  current  at  the  surface 
is  rapidly  descending  the  course  of  the  stream. 

Finding  that  the  wind  usually  rose  and  fell 
with  the  sun,  we  now  made  it  a  rule  to  anchor 
our  boat  during  most  of  the  day  and  pull  against 
the  current  at  night.  The  moon  and  the  bright 
auroral  lights  made  this  task  an  agreeable  one. 
Then,  too,  we  had  Coggia's  comet  speeding 
through  the  northern  heavens,  awakening  many 
an  odd  conjecture  in  the  mind  of  my  old  salt. 

In  this  high  latitude  day  dawned  before  three 
o'clock,  and  the  twilight  lingered  so  long  that 
we  could  read  the  fine  print  of  a  newspaper 
without  effort  at  a  quarter  to  nine  o'clock  p.  M. 
The  lofty  shores  that  surrounded  us  at  Quebec 
gradually  decreased  in  elevation,  and  the  tides 
affected  the  river  less  and  less  as  we  approached 
Three  Rivers,  where  they  seemed  to  cease  alto- 
gether. We  reached  the  great  lumber  station 
of  Three  Rivers,  which  is  located  on  the  left 
bank  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  on  Friday  evening, 
and  moved  our  canoe  into  quiet  waters  near  the 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER   CANOE.  19 

entrance  of  Lake  of  St.  Peter.  Rain  squalls 
kept  us  close  under  our  hatch-cloth  till  eleven 
o'clock  A.  M.  on  Saturday,  when,  the  wind  being 
fair,  we  determined  to  make  an  attempt  to  reach 
Sorel,  which  would  afford  us  a  pleasant  camping- 
ground  for  Sunday. 

Lake  of  St.  Peter  is  a  shoal  sheet  of  water 
twenty-two  miles  long  and  nearly  eight  miles 
wide,  a  bad  place  to  cross  in  a  small  boat  in 
windy  weather.  We  set  our  sail  and  sped  mer- 
rily on,  but  the  tempest  pressed  us  sorely,  com- 
pelling us  to  take  in  our  sail  and  scud  under 
bare  poles  until  one  o'clock,  when  we  double- 
reefed  and  set  the  sail.  We  now  flew  over  the 
short  and  swashy  seas  as  blast  after  blast  struck 
our  little  craft.  At  three  o'clock  the  wind  slack- 
ened, permitting  us  to  shake  out  our  reefs  and 
crowd  on  all  sail.  A  labyrinth  of  islands  closed 
the  lake  at  its  western  end,  and  we  looked  with 
anxiety  to  find  among  them  an  opening  through 
which  we  might  pass  into  the  river  St.  Law- 
rence again.  At  five  o'clock  the  wind  veered 
to  the  north,  with  squalls  increasing  in  intensity. 
We  steered  for  a  low,  grassy  island,  which 
seemed  to  separate  us  from  the  river.  The  wind 
was  not  free  enough  to  permit  us  to  weather  it, 
so  we  decided  to  beach  the  boat  and  escape  the 
furious  tempest.  But  when  we  struck  the  marshy 
island  we  kept  moving  on  through  the  rushes 
that  covered  it,  and  fairly  sailed  over  its  sub- 


20  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

merged  soil  into  the  broad  water  on  the  other 
side.  Bodfish  earnestly  advised  the  propriety  of 
anchoring  here  for  the  night,  saying,  w  It  is  too 
rough  to  go  on;"  but  the  temptation  held  out 
by  the  proximity  to  Sorel  determined  me  to 
take  the  risk  and  drive  on.  Again  we  bounded 
out  upon  rough  water,  with  the  screeching  tem- 
pest upon  us.  David  took  the  tiller,  while  I  sat 
upon  the  weather-rail  to  steady  the  boat.  The 
Mayeta  was  now  to  be  put  to  a  severe  test;  she 
was  to  cross  seas  that  could  easily  trip  a  boat  of 
her  size ;  but  the  wooden  canoe  was  worthy  of 
her  builder,  and  flew  like  an  affrighted  bird  over 
the  foaming  waves  across  the  broad  water,  to 
the  shelter  of  a  wooded,  half  submerged  island, 
out  of  which  rose,  on  piles,  a  little  light-house. 
Under  this  lee  we  crept  along  in  safety.  The 
sail  was  furled,  never  to  be  used  in  storm  again. 
The  wind  went  down  with  the  sinking  sun,  and 
a  delightful  calm  favored  us  for  our  row  up  the 
narrowing  river,  eight  miles  to  the  place  of  des- 
tination. 

Soon  after  nine  o'clock  we  came  upon  the 
Acadian  town,  Sorel,  with  its  bright  lights  cheer- 
ily flashing  out  upon  us  as  we  rowed  past  its 
river  front.  The  prow  of  our  canoe  was  now 
pointed  southward  toward  the  goal  of  our  ambi- 
tion, the  great  Mexican  Gulf;  and  we  were  about 
to  ascend  that  historic  stream,  the  lovely  Riche- 
lieu, upon  whose  gentle  current,  two  hundred 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPEk.    CANOE.  21 

and  sixty-six  years  before,  Champlain  had  as- 
cended to  the  noble  lake  which  bears  his  name, 
and  up  which  the  missionary  Jogues  had  been 
carried  an  unwilling  captive  to  bondage  and  to 
torture. 

We  ascended  the  Richelieu,  threading  our 
way  among  steam-tugs,  canal-boats,  and  rafts, 
to  a  fringe  of  rushes  growing  out  of  a  shallow 
flat  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river,  just  above 
the  town.  There,  firmly  staking  the  Mayeta 
upon  her  soft  bed  of  mud,  secure  from  danger, 
we  enjoyed  a  peaceful  rest  through  the  calm 
night  which  followed;  and  thus  ended  the  rough 
passage  of  one  week's  duration  —  from  Quebec 
to  Sorel. 


22  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 


CHAPTER    III. 

FROM    THE    ST.   LAWRENCE    RIVER    TO    TICONDE- 
ROGA,   LAKE   CHAMPLAIN. 

THE  RICHELIEU  RIVER.  —  ACADIAN  SCENES.  —  ST.  OURS.  —  ST 
ANTOINE.  —  ST.  MARKS.  —  BELCEIL.  —  CHAMBLY  CANAL.  —  ST. 
JOHNS.  —  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN.  —  THE  GREAT  SHIP-CANAL.  - 
DAVID-  BODFISH'S  CAMP.  —  THE  ADIRONDACK  SURVEY.  —  A 
CANVAS  BOAT.  —  DIMENSIONS  OF  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN.  —  PORT. 
KENT. — AUSABLE  CHASM.  —  ARRIVAL  AT  TICONDEROGA. 

QUEBEC  was  founded  by  Champlain,  July  3, 
1680.  During  his  first  warlike  expedition 
into  the  land  of  the  Iroquois  the  following  year, 
escorted  by  Algonquin  and  Montagnais  Indian 
allies,  he  ascended  a  river  to  which  was  after- 
wards given  the  name  of  Cardinal  Richelieu, 
prime  minister  of  Louis  XIII.  of  France.  This 
stream,  which  is  about  eighty  miles  long,  con- 
nects the  lake  (which  Champlain  discovered 
and  named  after  himself)  with  the  St  Lawrence 
River  at  a  point  one  hundred  and  forty  miles 
above  Quebec,  and  forty  miles  below  Montreal. 
The  waters  of  lakes  George  and  Champlain 
flow  northward,  through  the  Richelieu  River 
into  the  St.  Lawrence.  The  former  stream  flows 
through  a  cultivated  country,  and  upon  its  banks, 
after  leaving  Sorel,  are  situate  the  little  towns 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  23 

of  St.  Ours,  St.  Rock,  St.  Denis,  St.  Antoine,  St. 
Marks,  Belceil,  Chamb'ly,  and  St.  Johns.  Small 
steamers,  tug-boats,  and  rafts  pass  from  the  St. 
Lawrence  to  Lake  Champlain  (which  lies  almost 
wholly  within  the  United  States),  following  the 
Richelieu  to  Chambly,  where  it  is  necessary,  to 
avoid  rapids  and  shoals,  to  take  the  canal  that 
follows  the  river's  bank  twelve  miles  to  St.  Johns, 
where  the  Canadian  custom-house  is  located. 
Sorel  is  called  William  Henry  by  the  Anglo- 
Saxon  Canadians.  The  paper  published  in  this 
town  of  seven  thousand  inhabitants  is  La  Ga- 
zette de  Sorel.  The  river  which  flows  past  the 
town  is  called,  without  authority,  by  some  geog- 
raphers, Sorel  River,  and  by  others  St.  Johns, 
because  the  town  nearest  its  source  is  St.  Johns, 
and  another  town  at  its  mouth  is  Sorel.  There 
are  about  one  hundred  English-speaking  families 
in  Sorel.  The  American  Waterhouse  Machinery 
supplies  the  town  with  water  pumped  from  the 
river  at  a  cost  of  one  ton  of  coal  per  day.  At 
ten  o'clock  on  Monday  morning  we  resumed 
our  journey  up  the  Richelieu,  the  current  of 
which  was  nothing  compared  with  that  of  the 
great  river  we  had  left.  The  average  width  of 
the  stream  was  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  and  the 
grassy  shores  were  made  picturesque  by  groves 
of  trees  and  quaintly  constructed  farm-houses. 

It  was  a  rich,  pastoral  land,  abounding  in  fine 
herds  of  cattle.     The  country  reminded  me  of 


24  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

the  Acadian  region  of  Grand  Pro,  which  I  had 
visited  during  the  earlier  part  of  the  season. 
Here,  as  there,  were  delightful  pastoral  scenes 
and  rich  verdure;  but  here  we  stilt  had  the  Aca- 
dian peasants,  while  in  the  land  of  beautiful 
Evangcline  no  longer  were  they  to  be  found. 
The  New  Englander  now  holds  the  titles  to 
those  deserted  old  farms  of  the  scattered  colo- 
nists. Our  rowing  was  frequently  interrupted 
by  heavy  showers,  which  drove  us  under  our 
hatch-cloth  for  protection.  The  same  large, 
two-steepled  stone  churches,  with  their  unpaint- 
ed  tin  roofs  glistening  like  silver  in  the  sunlight, 
marked  out  here,  as  on  the  high  banks  of  the 
St.  Lawrence  River,  the  site  of  a  village. 

Twelve  miles  of  rowing  brought  us  to  St.  Ours, 
where  we  rested  for  the  night,  after  wandering 
through  its  shaded  and  quaint  streets.  The  vil- 
lage boys  and  girls  came  down  to  see  us  off  the 
next  morning,  waving  their  kerchiefs,  and  shout- 
ing ^Bon  v oyage !  "  Two  miles  above  the  town 
we  encountered  a  dam  three  feet  high,  which 
deepened  the  water  on  a  shoal  above  it.  We 
passed  through  a  single  lock  in  company  with 
rafts  of  pine  logs  which  were  on  the  way  to  New 
York,  to  be  used  for  spars.  A  lockage  fee  of 
twenty-five  cents  for  our  boat  the  lock-master 
told  us  would  be  collected  at  Chambly  Basin. 
It  was  a  pull  of  nearly  six  miles  to  St.  Denis, 
where  the  same  scene  of  comfort  and  plenty  pre- 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  25 

vailed.  Women  were  washing  clothes  in  large 
iron  pots  at  the  river's  edge,  and  the  hum  of  the 
spinning-wheels  issued  from  the  doorways  of 
the  farm-houses.  Beehives  in  the  well-stocked 
gardens  were  filled  with  honey,  and  the  straw- 
thatched  barns  had  their  doors  thrown  wide 
open,  as  though  waiting  to  receive  the  harvest. 
At  intervals  along  the  highway,  over  the  grassy 
hills,  tall,  white  wooden  crosses  were  erected; 
for  this  people,  like  the  Acadians  of  old,  are  very 
religious.  Down  the  current  floated  "  pin-flats," 
a  curious  scow-like  boat,  which  carries  a  square 
sail,  and  makes  good  time  only  when  running 
before  the  wind.  St.  Antoine  and  St.  Marks 
were  passed,  and  the  isolated  peak  of  St.  Hilaire 
loomed  up  grandly  twelve  hundred  feet  on  the 
right  bank  of  the  Richelieu,  opposite  the  town 
ofBelocil.  One  mile  above  Belceil  the  Grand 
Trunk  Railroad  crosses  the  stream,  and  here  we 
passed  the  night.  Strong  winds  and  rain  squalls 
interrupted  our  progress.  At  Chambly  Basin 
we  tarried  until  the  evening  of  July  16,  before 
entering  the  canal.  Chambly  is  a  watering- 
place  for  Montreal  people,  who  come  here  to 
enjoy  the  fishing,  which  is  said  to  be  fair. 

We  had  ascended  one  water-step  at  St.  Ours. 
Here  we  had  eight  steps  to  ascend  within  the 
distance  of  one  mile.  By  means  of  eight  locks, 
each  one  hundred  and  ten  feet  long  by  twenty- 
two  wide,  the  Mayeta  was  lifted  seventy-five 


26  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

feet  and  one  inch  in  height  to  the  upper  level  of 
the  canal.  The  lock-masters  were  courteous, 
and  wished  us  the  usual  "  bon  voyage !  "  This 
canal  was  built  thirty-four  years  prior  to  my  visit. 
By  ten  o'clock  p.  M.  we  had  passed  the  last  lock, 
and  went  into  camp  in  a  depression  in  the  bank 
of  the  canal.  The  journey  was  resumed  at  half 
past  three  o'clock  the  following  morning,  and 
the  row  of  twelve  miles  to  St.  Johns  was  a  de- 
lightful one.  The  last  lock  (the  only  one  at  St. 
Johns)  was  passed,  and  we  had  a  full  clearance 
at  the  Dominion  custom-house  before  noon. 

We  were  again  on  the  Richelieu,  with  about 
twenty-three  miles  between  us  and  the  boundary 
line  of  the  United  States  and  Canada,  and  with 
very  little  current  to  impede  us.  As  dusk  ap- 
proached we  passed  a  dismantled  old  fort,  situ- 
ated upon  an  island  called  He  aux  Noix,  and 
entered  a  region  inhabited  by  the  large  bull-frog, 
where  we  camped  for  the  night,  amid  the  dolo- 
rous voices  of  these  choristers.  On  Saturday, 
the  1 8th,  at  an  early  hour,  we  were  pulling  for 
the  United  States,  which  was  about  six  miles 
from  our  camping-ground.  The  Richelieu  wid- 
ened, and  we  entered  Lake  Champlain,  passing 
Fcrt  Montgomery,  which  is  about  one  thousand 
feet  south  of  the  boundary  line.  Champlain  has 
a  width  of  three  fourths  of  a  mile  at  Fort  Mont- 
gomery, and  at  Rouse's  Point  expands  to  two 
miles  and  three  quarters.  The  erection  of  the 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  27 

fort  was  commenced  soon  after  1812,  but  in 
1818  the  work  was  suspended,  as  some  one  dis- 
covered that  the  site  was  in  Canada,  and  the 
cognomen  of  Fort  Blunder  was  applie'd.  In  the 
Webster  treaty  of  1842,  England  ceded  the 
ground  to  the  United  States,  and  Fort  Mont- 

O  7 

gomery  was  finished  at  a  cost  of  over  half  a  mil- 
lion of  dollars. 

At  Rouse's  Point,  which  lies  on  the  west  shore 
of  Lake  Champlain  about  one  and  one-half  miles 
south  of  its  confluence  with  the  Richelieu,  the 
Mayeta  was  inspected  by  the  United  States  cus- 
tom-house officer,  and  nothing  contraband  being 
discovered,  the  little  craft  was  permitted  to  con- 
tinue her  voyage. 

At  the  northern  end  of  the  harbor  of  Rouse's 
Point  is  the  terminus  of  the  Ogdensburg  and  the 
Champlain  and  St.  Lawrence  railroads.  The 
Vermont  Central  Railroad  connects  with  the 
above  by  means  of  a  bridge  twenty-two  hundred 
feet  in  length,  which  crosses  the  lake.  Before 
proceeding  further  it  may  interest  the  reader  of 
practical  mind  to  know  that  a  very  important 
movement  is  on  foot  to  facilitate  the  navigation 
of  vessels  between  the  great  Lakes,  St.  Lawrence 
River,  and  Champlain,  by  the  construction  of 
a  ship-canal.  The  Caughnawaga  Ship  Canal 
Company,  "incorporated  by  special  act  of  the 
Dominion  of  Parliament  of  Canada,  i2th  May, 
1870,"  (capital,  three  million  dollars;  shares,  one 


28  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

hundred  dollars  each,)  with  a  board  of  directors 
composed  of  citizens  of  the  United  States  and 
Canada,  has  issued  its  prospectus,  from  which  I 
extract  the  following: 

f  The  commissioners  of  public  works,  in 
their  report  of  1859,  approved  by  government, 
finally  settled  the  question  of  route,  by  declaring 
that,  ?  after  a  patient  and  mature  consideration  of 
all  the  surveys  and  reports,  we  are  of  opinion 
that  the  line  following  the  Chambly  Canal  and 
then  crossing  to  Lake  St.  Louis  near  Caughna- 
waga,  is  that  which  combines  and  affords  in  the 
greatest  degree  all  the  advantages  contemplated 
by  this  improvement,  and  which  has  been  ap- 
proved by  Messrs.  Mills,  Swift,  and  Gamble.' 

"The  company's  Act  of  Incorporation  is  in 
every  respect  complete  and  comprehensive  in  its 
details.  It  empowers  the  company  to  survey,  to 
take,  appropriate,  have  and  hold,  to  and  for  the 
use  of  them  and  their  successors,  the  line  and 
boundaries  of  a  canal  between  the  St.  Lawrence 
and  Lake  Champlain,  to  build  and  erect  the 
same,  to  select  such  sites  as  may  be  necessary 
for  basins  and  docks,  as  may  be  considered  ex- 
pedient by  the  directors,  and  to  purchase  and 
dispose  of  same,  with  any  water-power,  as  may 
be  deemed  best  by  the  directors  for  the  use  and 
profit  of  the  company. 

"  It  also  empowers  the  company  to  cause  their 
canal  to  enter  into  the  Chambly  Canal,  and  to 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  29 

widen,  deepen,  and  enlarge  the  same,  not  less  in 
size  than  the  present  St.  Lawrence  canals;  also 
the  company  may  take,  hold,  and  use  any  por- 
tion of  the  Chambly  Canal,  and  the  works  there- 
with connected,  and  all  the  tolls,  receipts,  and 
revenues  thereof,  upon  terms  to  be  settled  and 
agreed  upon  between  the  company  and  the  gov- 
ernor in  council. 

rc  The  cost  of  the  canal,  with  locks  of  three 
hundred  feet  by  forty-five,  and  with  ten  feet  six 
inches  the  mitre-sill,  is  now  estimated  at  two 
million  five  hundred  thousand  dollars,  and  the 
time  for  its  construction  may  not  exceed  two 
years  after  breaking  ground. 

"  Probably  no  question  is  of  more  vital  impor- 
tance to  Canada  and  the  western  and  eastern 
United  States  than  the  subject  of  transportation. 
The  increasing  commerce  of  the  Great  West,  the 
rapidity  with  which  the  population  has  of  late 
flowed  into  that  vast  tract  of  country  to  the  west 
and  northwest  of  lakes  Erie,  Michigan,  Huron, 
and  Superior,  have  served  to  convince  all  well- 
informed  commercial  men  that  the  means  of 
transit  between  that  country  and  the  seaboard 
are  far  too  limited  even  for  the  present  necessi- 
ties of  trade;  hence  it  becomes  a  question  of  uni- 
versal interest  how  the  products  of  the  field,  the 
mine,  and  the  forest  can  be  most  cheaply  for- 
warded to  the  consumer.  Near  the  geographical 
centre  of  North  America  is  a  vast  plateau  two 


30  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

thousand  feet  above  the  level  of  the  sea,  drained 
by  the  Mississippi  to  the  south,  by  the  St.  Law- 
rence to  the  east,  and  by  the  Saskatchewan  and 
McKenzic  to  the  north.  This  vast  territory 
would  have  been  valueless  but  for  the  water 
lines  which  afford  cheap  transport  between  it 
and  the  great  markets  of  the  world. 

"  Canada  has  improved  the  St.  Lawrence  by 
canals  round  the  rapids  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  and 
by  the  Welland  Canal,  connecting  lakes  Erie  and 
Ontario,  twenty-eight  miles  in  length  with  a  fall- 
of  two  hundred  and  sixty  feet,  capable  of  pass- 
ing vessels  of  four  hundred  tons.  The  St.  Law- 
rence, from  the  east  end  of  Lake  Ontario,  has  a 
fall  of  two  hundred  and  twenty  feet,  overcome 
by  seven  short  canals  of  an  aggregate  length  of 
forty-seven  miles,  capable  of  passing  vessels  of 
six  hundred  and  fifty  tons.  The  Richelieu  River 
is  connected  with  Lake  Champlain  by  a  canal 
of  twelve  miles  from  Chambly.  A  canal  of  one 
mile  in  length,  at  the  outlet  of  Lake  Superior, 
connects  that  lake  with  Lake  Huron,  and  has 
two  locks,  which  will  pass  vessels  of  two  thou- 
sand tons.  New  York  has  built  a  canal  from 
Buffalo,  on  Lake  Erie,  and  from  Oswego,  on 
Lake  Ontario,  to  Albany,  on  the  Hudson  River, 
of  three  hundred  and  sixty  and  of  two  hundred 
and  nine  miles,  capable  of  passing  boats  of  two 
hundred  and  ten  tons;  and  she  has  also  con- 
structed a  canal  from  the  Hudson  River  into 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  3! 

Lake  Champlain  of  sixty-five  miles,  which  can 
pass  boats  of  eighty  tons. 

"  Such  is  the  nature  of  the  navigation  between 
tide-water  on  the  Hudson  and  St.  Lawrence  and 
the  upper  lakes.  The  magnitude  of  the  com- 
merce of  the  Northwest  has  compelled  the  en- 
largement of  the  Erie  and  Oswego  canals  from 
boats  of  seventy-eight  to  two  hundred  and  ten 
tons,  while  the  St.  Lawrence  and  Welland  canals 
have  also  been  enlarged  since  their  first  con- 
struction. A  further  enlargement  of  the  Erie 
and  Champlain  canals  is  now  strongly  urged  in 
consequence  of  the  want  of  the  necessary  facili- 
ties of  transport  for  the  ever  increasing  western 
trade.  The  object  of  the  Caughnawaga  Ship- 
canal  is  to  connect  Lake  Champlain  with  the  St. 
Lawrence  by  the  least  possible  distance,  and 
with  the  smallest  amount  of  lockage.  When 
built,  it  will  enable  the  vessel  or  propeller  to 
sail  from  the  head  of  lakes  Superior  or  Michigan 
without  breaking  bulk,  and  will  enable  such  ves- 
sels to  land  and  receive  cargo  at  Burlington  and 
Whitehall,  from  whence  western  freights  can  be 
carried  to  and  from  Boston,  and  throughout  New 
England,  by  railway  cheaper  than  by  any  other 
route. 

"  It  will  possess  the  advantage,  when  the  Wel- 
land Canal  is  enlarged  and  the  locks  of  the  St. 
Lawrence  Canal  lengthened,  of  passing  vessels 
of  eight  hundred  and  fifty  tons'  burden,  and  with 


32  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

that  size  of  vessel  (impossible  on  any  other  route) 
of  improved  model,  with  facilities  for  loading  and 
discharging  cargoes  at  both  ends  of  the  route,  in 
the  length  of  the  voyage  without  transshipment, 
in  having  the  least  distance  between  any  of 
the  lake  ports  and  a  seaport,  and  in  having  the 
shortest  length  of  taxed  canal  navigation.  The 
construction  of  the  Caughnawaga  Canal,  when 
carried  out,  will  remedy  the  difficulties  which 
now  exist  and  stand  in  the  way  of  an  uninter- 
rupted water  communication  between  the  west- 
ern states  and  the  Atlantic  seaboard." 

From  Rouse's  Point  we  proceeded  to  a  pic- 
turesque point  which  jutted  into  the  lake  below 
Chazy  Landing,  and  was  sheltered  by  a  grove 
of  trees  into  which  we  hauled  the  Mayeta.  Bod- 
fish's  woodcraft  enabled  him  to  construct  a  wig- 
wam out  of  rails  and  rubber  blankets,  where  we 
quietly  resided  until  Monday  morning.  The 
owner  of  the  point,  Mr.  Trombly,  invited  us  to 
dinner  on  Sunday,  and  exhibited  samples  of  a 
ton  of  maple  sugar  which  he  had  made  from  the 
sap  of  one  thousand  trees. 

On  Monday,  July  2oth,  we  rowed  southward. 
Our  route  now  skirted  the  western  shore  of 
Lake  Champlain,  which  is  the  eastern  boundary 
of  the  great  Adirondack  wilderness.  Several  of 
the  tributaries  of  the  lake  take  their  rise  in  this 
region,  which  is  being  more  and  more  visited 
by  the  hunter,  the  fisherman,  the  artist,  and  the 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  33 

tourist,  as  its  natural  attractions  are  becoming 
known  to  the  public.  The  geodetical  survey 
of  the  northern  wilderness  of  New  York  state, 
known  as  the  Adirondack  country,  under  the 
efficient  and  energetic  labors  of  Mr.  Verplanck 
Colvin,  will  cover  an  area  of  nearly  five  thou- 
sand square  miles.  In  his  report  of  the  great 
work  he  eloquently  says: 

"  The  Adirondack  wilderness  may  be  consid- 
ered the  wonder  and  the  glory  of  New  York. 
It  is  a  vast  natural  park,  one  immense  and 
silent  forest,  curiously  and  beautifully  broken 
by  the  gleaming  waters  of  a  myriad  of  lakes, 
between  which  rugged  mountain-ranges  rise  as 
a  sea  of  granite  billows.  At  the  northeast  the 
mountains  culminate  within  an  area  of  some 
hundreds  of  square  miles;  and  here  savage,  tree- 
less peaks,  towering  above  the  timber  line,  crowd 
one  another,  and,  standing  gloomily  shoulder  to 
shoulder,  rear  their  rocky  crests  amid  the  frosty 
clouds.  The  wild  beasts  may  look  forth  from 
the  ledges  on  the  mountain-sides  over  unbroken 
woodlands  stretching  beyond  the  reach  of  sight 
—  beyond  the  blue,  hazy  ridges  at  the  horizon. 
The  voyager  by  the  canoe  beholds  lakes  in 
which  these  mountains  and  wild  forests  are 
reflected  like  inverted  reality;  now  wondrous 
in  their  dark  grandeur  and  solemnity,  now 
glorious  in  resplendent  autumn  color  of  pearly 
beauty.  Here  —  thrilling  sound  to  huntsman  — 

3 


34  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

echoes  the  wild  melody  of  the  hound,  awaken- 
ing the  solitude  with  deep-mouthed  bay  as  he 
pursues  the  swift  career  of  deer.  The  quavering 
note  of  the  loon  on  the  lake,  the  mournful  hoot 
of  the  owl  at  night,  with  rarer  forest  voices, 
have  also  to  the  lover  of  nature  their  peculiar 
charm,  and  form  the  wild  language  of  this  forest. 

"It  is  this  region  of  lakes  and  mountains  — 
whose  mountain  core  is  well  shown  by  the  illus- 
tration, ?  the  heart  of  the  Adirondacks  '  —  that 
our  citizens  desire  to  reserve  forever  as  a  public 
forest  park,  not  only  as  a  resort  of  rest  for  them- 
selves and  for  posterity,  but  for  weighty  reasons  of 
political  economy.  For  reservoirs  of  water  for  the 
canals  and  rivers;  for  the  amelioration  of  spring 
floods  by  the  preservation  of  the  forests  shelter- 
ing the  deep  winter  snows;  for  the  salvation  of 
the  timber, —  our  only  cheap  source  of  lumber 
supply  should  the  Canadian  and  western  markets 
be  ruined  by  fires,  or  otherwise  lost  to  us,  —  its 
preservation  as  a  state  forest  is  urgently  demand- 
ed. To  the  number  of  those  chilly  peaks  amid 
which  our  principal  rivers  take  their  rise,  I  have 
added  by  measurement  a  dozen  or  more  over 
four  thousand  feet  in  height,  which  were  before 
either  nameless,  or  only  vaguely  known  by  the 
names  given  them  by  hunters  and  trappers. 

"  It  is  well  to  note  that  the  final  hypsometrical 
computations  fully  affirm  my  discovery  that  in 
Mount  Haystack  we  have  another  mountain  of 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  35 

five  thousand  feet  altitude.  It  may  not  be  unin- 
teresting also  to  remark  that  the  difference  be- 
tween the  altitudes  of  Mount  Marcy  and  Mount 
Washington  of  the  White  Mountains  of  New 
Hampshire  is  found  to  be  quite  eight  hundred 
feet.  Mount  Marcy,  Mount  Maclntyre,  and 
Mount  Haystack  are  to  be  remembered  as  the 
three  royal  summits  of  the  state. 
"The  four  prominent  peaks  are  — 

(Mount  Tahaivus — "  I  cleave  )  , 

Mount  Marcy  \  \  5;4°2.65 

(      the  clouds,          .         .         .     ) 

Mount  Haystack, 5,006.73 

Mount  Maclntyre, 5,201.80 

Mount  Skylight,  .        .        .        .        .'        .4  977-?6." 

If  the  general  reader  will  pardon  a  seeming 
digression  to  gratify  the  curiosity  of  some  of  my 
boating  friends,  I  will  give  from  the  report  of 
the  Adirondack  Survey  Mr.  Colvin's  account 
of  his  singular  boat,  —  one  of  the  lightest  yet 
constructed,  and  weighing  only  as  much  as  a 
hunter's  double-barrelled  gun. 

Mr.  Colvin  says: 

"  I  also  had  constructed  a  canvas  boat,  of  my 
own  invention,  for  use  in  the  interior  of  the  wil- 
derness on  such  of  the  mountain  lakes  as  were 
inaccessible  to  boats,  and  which  it  would  be 
necessary  to  map.  This  boat  was  peculiar;  no 
more  frame  being  needed  than  could  be  readily 
cut  in  thirty  minutes  in  the  first  thicket.  It  was 


36  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

twelve  feet  long,  with  thin  sheet  brass  prows, 
riveted  on,  and  so  fitted  as  to  receive  the  keelson, 
prow  pieces,  and  ribs  (of  boughs),  when  re- 
quired; the  canoe  being  made  water-proof  with 
pure  rubber  gum,  dissolved  in  naphtha,  rubbed 
into  it." 

Page  43  of  Mr.  Colvin's  report  informs  the 
reader  how  well  this  novel  craft  served  the  pur- 
pose for  which  it  was  built. 

"September  12  was  devoted  to  levelling  and 
topographical  work  at  Ampersand  Pond,  a  solitary 
lake  locked  in  by  mountains,  and  seldom  visited. 
There  was  no  boat  upon  its  surface,  and  in  order 
to  complete  the  hydrographical  work  we  had 
now,  of  necessity,  to  try  my  portable  canvas  boat, 
which  had  hitherto  done  service  as  bed  or  tent. 
Cutting  green  rods  for  ribs,  we  unrolled  the  boat 
and  tied  them  in,  lashing  poles  for  gunwales  at 
the  sides,  and  in  a  short  time  our  canvas  canoe, 
buoyant  as  a  cork,  was  floating  on  the  water. 
The  guides,  who  had  been  unable  to  believe  that 
the  flimsy  bag  they  carried  could  be  used  as  a 
boat,  were  in  ecstasies.  Rude  but  efficient  pad- 
dles were  hastily  hewn  from  the  nearest  tree, 
and  soon  we  were  all  gliding  in  our  ten-pound 
boat  over  the  waves  of  Ampersand,  which  glit- 
tered in  the  morning  sunlight.  To  the  guides 
the  boat  wras  something  astonishing;  they  could 
not  refrain  from  laughter  to  find  that  they  were 
really  afloat  in  it,  and  pointed  with  surprise  at 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  37 

the  waves,  which  could  be  seen  through  the 
boat,  rippling  against  its  sides.  With  the  aid  of 
the  boat,  with  prismatic  compass  and  sextant,  I 
was  able  to  secure  an  excellent  map  of  the  lake; 
and  we  almost  succeeded  in  catching  a  deer? 
which  was  driven  into  the  lake  by  a  strange 
hound.  The  dog  lost  the  trail  at  the  water,  and 
desiring  to  put  him  on  the  track,  we  paddled  to 
him.  He  scrambled  into  the  boat  with  an  air  of 
satisfaction,  as  if  he  had  always  travelled  in  just 
such  a  thing.  Soon  we  had  regained  the  trail, 
and  making  the  mountains  echo  to  his  voice, 
he  again  pursued  the  deer  on  into  the  trackless 
forest. 

"  Continuing  our  work,  we  passed  down  into 
the  outlet,  where,  in  trying  to  effect  a  landing, 
we  suddenly  came  face  to  face  with  a  large  pan- 
ther, which  had  evidently  been  watching  us. 
He  fled  at  our  approach. 

"  Our  baggage  was  quickly  packed,  and  the 
temporary  frame  of  the  canoe  having  been  taken 
out  and  thrown  away,  we  rolled  up  our  boat  and 
put  it  in  the  bottom  of  a  knapsack.  .  .  .  The  same 
day  by  noon  we  reached  Cold  Brook  again,  here 
navigable.  In  an  hour  and  a  half  we  had  re- 
framed  the  canvas,  cut  out  two  paddles  from  a 
dry  cedar-tree,  had  dinner,  loaded  the  boat,  and 
were  off,  easily  gliding  down  stream  to  the  Sara- 
nac  River.  Three  men,  the  heaped  baggage  in 
the  centre,  and  the  solemn  hound,  who  seemed 

460085 


38  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

to  consider  himself  part  of  the  company,  sitting 
upright  near  the  prow,  forming  in  all  a  burden 
of  about  one  third  of  a  ton,  was  a  severe  test  of 
the  green  boughs  of  which  we  had  made  the  frame. 

"  Ascending  the  Saranac  River,  we  struck  out 
into  the  broad  Saranac  Lake,  some  six  miles 
in  length,  and  though  the  winds  and  the  waves 
buffeted  us,  the  canvas  sides  of  the  boat  respond- 
ing elastically  to  each  beat  of  the  waves,  we  got 
safely  along  till  near  the  Sister  Islands,  when,  the 
wind  blowing  very  fresh,  the  white-capped  roll- 
ers began  to  pitch  into  the  boat.  The  exertions 
of  the  guides  brought  us  under  the  lee  shore,  and 
at  evening  we  disembarked  at  Martin's." 

Geographies,  guide-books,  and  historical  works 
frequently  give  the  length  of  Lake  Champlain  as 
one  hundred  and  fifty,  or  at  the  least  one  hundred 
and  forty  miles.  These  distances  are  not  correct. 
The  lake  proper  begins  at  a  point  near  Ticonde- 
roga  and  ends  not  far  from  the  boundary  line  of 
the  United  States  and  Canada.  Champlain  is  not 
less  than  one  hundred  nor  more  than  one  hundred 
and  twelve  miles  long.  The  Champlain  Canal, 
which  connects  the  river  that  flows  from  White- 
hall into  the  lake  with  the  Hudson  River,  is  sixty- 
four  miles  long,  ending  at  the  Erie  Canal  at 
Junction  Lock,  near  Troy.  From  Junction  Lock 
to  Albany,  along  the  Erie  Canal,  it  is  six  miles: 
or  seventy  miles  from  Whitehall  to  Albany  by 
canal  route.  This  distance  has  frequently  been 
given  as  fifty-one  miles. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  39 

From  the  United  States  boundary  line  south- 
ward it  is  a  distance  of  seven  miles  to  Isle  la 
Motte,  which  island  is  five  and  a  half  miles  long 
by  one  and  three  quarters  wide,  with  a  light- 
house upon  its  northwest  point.  From  the  New 
York  shore  of  Monti  Bay,  across  the  end  of  Isle 
la  Motte  to  St.  Albans,  Vermont,  is  a  distance  of 
thirteen  and  a  half  miles.  Two  miles  south  of 
the  island,  on  the  west  shore,  is  Point  au  Roche 
light;  and  two  miles  and  three  quarters  south  of 
it  is  Rocky  Point,  the  terminus  of  Long  Point. 
Next  comes  Treadwell  Bay,  three  miles  across; 
then  two  rm'les  further  on  is  Cumberland  Head 
and  its  light-house.  West  from  Cumberland, 
three  miles  across  a  large  bay,  is  Plattsburgh,  at 
the  mouth  of  the  Saranac  River,  a  town  of  five 
thousand  inhabitants.  In  this  vicinity  Commo- 
dore Macdonough  fought  the  British  fleet  in  1814. 
These  are  historic  waters,  which  have  witnessed 
the  scene  of  many  a  bloody  struggle  between 
French,  English,  and  Indian  adversaries.  Off 
Cumberland  Head,  and  dividing  the  lake,  is 
Grand  Isle,  twelve  miles  in  length  and  from 
three  to  four  in  width. 

The  village  of  Port  Kent  is  near  the  mouth  of 
the  Ausable  River/which  flows  out  of  the  north- 
ern Adirondack  country.  A  few  miles  from  the 
lake  is  the  natural  wonder,  the  Ausable  Chasm, 
which  is  nearly  two  miles  in  length.  The  river 
has  worn  a  channel  in  the  Potsdam  sandstone 


40  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

formation  to  a  depth,  in  places,  of  two  hundred 
feet.  Between  high  walls  of  rock  the  river  is 
compressed  in  one  place  to  ten  feet  in  breadth, 
and  dashes  wildly  over  falls  and  rapids  on  its 
way  to  Lake  Champlain.  It  is  said  to  rival  the 
famous  Swiss  Gorge  du  Triant. 

Schuyler's  Island,  upon  the  shore  of  which  we 
passed  Tuesday  night,  is  nearly  in  the  latitude  of 
Burlington,  Vermont.  The  distance  from  Port 
Douglass  on  the  west,  to  Burlington  on  the  east 
side  of  Champlain,  over  an  open  expanse  of 
water,  is  nine  miles  and  three  quarters.  We 
breakfasted  by  starlight,  and  passed  Ligonier's 
Point  early  in  the  day.  One  mile  and  a  half  east 
of  it  is  the  group  of  little  islands  called  Four 
Brothers.  The  lake  grew  narrower  as  we  rowed 
southward,  until,  after  passing  Port  Henry  Iron 
Works,  and  the  high  promontory  of  Crown  Point, 
upon  which  are  the  ruins  of  the  French  Fort 
Frederic,  built  in  1731,  it  has  a  width  of  only 
two  miles. 

At  eight  o'clock  p.  M.  we  dropped  anchor  un- 
der the  banks  of  Ticonderoga,  not  far  from  the 
outlet  of  Lake  George.  It  is  four  miles  by  road 
between  the  two  lakes.  The  stream  which  con- 
nects them  can  be  ascended  from  Champlain 
about  two  miles  to  the  Iron  Works,  the  remain- 
der of  the  river  being  filled  with  rapids. 

A  railroad  now  (1867)  connects  lakes  George 
and  Champlain,  over  which  an  easy  portage  can 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  4! 

be  made.  The  ruined  walls  of  Fort  Ticonde- 
roga  are  near  the  railroad  landing.  A  little 
south  of  this  the  lake  grows  so  narrow  as  to  re- 
semble a  river.  At  its  southern  end,  twenty- 
four  miles  from  Ticonderoga,  is  situated  the 
town  of  Whitehall,  where  the  Champlain  and 
Hudson  River  Canal  forms  a  junction  with  Lake 
Champlain.  This  long  river-like  termination  of 
Champlain  gave  to  the  Indians  the  fancy  of  call- 
ing it  Tisinondrosa  —  "  the  tail  of  the  lake ;  " 
which  in  mouths  inexperienced  with  the  savage 
tongue  became  corrupted  into  Ticonderoga. 

Wednesday  broke  upon  us  a  glorious  day. 
Proceeding  three  miles  to  Patterson's  Landing, 
into  the  "  tail  of  the  lake,"  I  left  the  Mayeta  to 
explore  on  foot  the  shores  of  Lake  George, 
promising  Bodfish  to  join  him  at  Whitehall  when 
my  work  should  be  finished. 


42  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

FROM    LAKES    GEORGE   AND    CHAMPLAIN   TO  THE 
HUDSON   RIVER. 

THE  DISCOVERY  OF  LAKE  GEORGE  BY  FATHER  JCGUES. —  A  PE- 
DESTRIAN JOURNEY.  —  THE  HERMIT  OF  THE  NARROWS.  — 
CONVENT  OF  ST.  MARY'S  OF  THE  LAKE.  —  THE  PAULIST 
FATHERS.  —  CANAL-ROUTE  FROM  LAKE  CHAMPLAIN  TO  AL- 
BANY.—  BODFISH  RETURNS  TO  NEW  JERSEY. — THE  LITTLE 
FLEET  IN  ITS  HAVEN  OF  REST. 

IN  the  last  chapter  I  gave,  from  seemingly 
good  authority,  the  appellation  of  the  narrow 
terminal  water  of  the  southern  end  of  Lake 
Champlain,  "the  tail  of  the  lake."  Another 
authority,  in  describing  Lake  George,  says: 
rt  The  Indians  named  the  lake,  on  account  of  the 
purity  of  its  waters,  Horican,  or  r  silvery  water;' 
they  also  called  it  Canderi-oit,  or  'the  tail  of 
the  lake,'  on  account  of  its  connecting  with  Lake 
Champlain."  Cooper,  in  his  "  Last  of  the  Mo- 
hicans," says :  "  It  occurred  to  me  that  the 
French  name  of  the  lake  was  too  complicated, 
the  American  too  commonplace,  and  the  Indian 
too  unpronounceable  for  either  to  be  used  fa- 
miliarly in  a  work  of  fiction."  So  he  called  it 
Horican. 


Route  of 

CANOE    MAYETA 

From  Pluttsburgh  to  Albany 

Via  Lake  C/iamplaifi,  and  Champlain  CanaL 

Followed  by  N.H. Bishop 

in.  1H7^ 


|  *.'., 


Shxpard, 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  43 

History  furnishes  us  with  the  following  facts 
in  regard  to  the  discovery  of  the  lake.  While 
journeying  up  the  St.  Lawrence  in  a  fleet  of 
twelve  canoes,  on  a  mission  to  the  friendly  Hu- 
ron aborigines,  Father  Isaac  Jogues  and  his  two 
friends,  donnas  of  the  mission,  Rene  Goupil  and 
Guillaume  Couture,  with  another  Frenchman, 
were  captured  at  the  western  end  of  Lake  of 
St.  Peter  by  a  band  of  Iroquois,  which  was  on  a 
marauding  expedition  from  the  Mohawk  River 
country,  near  what  is  now  the  city  of  Troy.  In 
the  panic  caused  by  the  sudden  onslaught  of  the 
Iroquois,  the  unconverted  portion  of  the  thirty- 
six  Huron  allies  of  the  Frenchmen  fled  into  the 
woods,  while  the  christianized  portion  defended 
the  white  men  for  a  while.  A  reinforcement  of 
the  enemy  soon  scattered  these  also,  but  not 
until  the  Frenchmen  and  a  few  of  the  Hurons 
were  made  captive.  This  was  on  the  zd  of 
August,  1642. 

According  to  Francis  Parkman,  the  author  of 
"  The  Jesuits  in  North  America,"  the  savages 
tortured  Jogues  and  his  white  companions,  strip- 
ping off  their  clothing,  tearing  out  their  finger- 
nails with  their  teeth,  and  gnawing  their  fingers 
with  the  fury  of  beasts.  The  seventy  Iroquois 
returned  southward,  following  the  River  Riche- 
lieu, Lake  Champlain,  and  Lake  George,  en 
route  for  the  Mohawk  towns.  Meeting  a  war 
party  of  two  hundred  of  their  own  nation  on 


44  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

one  of  the  islands  of  Champlain,  the  Indians 
formed  two  parallel  lines  between  which  the 
captives  were  forced  to  run  for  their  lives,  while 
the  savages  struck  at  them  with  thorny  sticks 
and  clubs.  Father  Jogues  fell  exhausted  to  the 
ground,  bathed  in  his  own  blood,  when  fire  was 
applied  to  his  body.  At  night  the  young  war- 
riors tormented  the  poor  captives  by  opening 
their  wounds  and  tearing  out  their  hair  and 
beards.  The  day  following  this  night  of  torture 
the  Indians  and  their  mangled  captives  reached 
the  promontory  of  Ticonderoga,  along  the  base 
of  which  flowed  the  limpid  waters,  the  outlet  of 
Lake  George.  Here  the  party  made  a  portage 
through  the  primeval  forests,  carrying  their  ca- 
noes and  cargoes  on  their  backs,  when  suddenly 
there  broke  upon  their  view  the  dark  blue  waters 
of  a  beautiful  lake,  which  Mr.  Parkman  thus  elo- 
quently describes: 

"  Like  a  fair  naiad  of  the  wilderness  it  slum- 
bered between  the  guardian  mountains  that 
breathe  from  crag  and  forest  the  stern  poetry  of 
war.  But  all  then  was  solitude;  and  the  clang 
of  trumpets,  the  roar  of  cannon,  and  the  deadly 
crack  of  the  rifle  had  never  as  yet  awakened 
their  angry  echoes.  Again  the  canoes  were 
launched  and  the  wild  flotilla  glided  on  its  way, 
now  in  the  shadow  of  the  heights,  now  on  the 
broad  expanse,  now  among  the  devious  chan- 
nels of  the  Narrows,  beset  with  woody  islets 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  45 

where  the  hot  air  was  redolent  of  the  pine,  the 
spruce,  and  the  cedar,  —  till  they  neared  that 
tragic  shore  where,  in  the  following  century, 
New  England  rustics  baffled  the  soldiers  of 
Dieskau,  where  Montcalm  planted  his  batteries, 
where  the  red  cross  waved  so  long  amid  the 
smoke,  and  where,  at  length,  the  summer  night 
was  hideous  with  carnage,  and  an  honored  name 
was  stained  with  a  memory  of  blood.  The 
Indians  landed  at  or  near  the  future  site  of  Fort 
William  Henry,  left  their  canoes,  and  with  their 
prisoners  began  their  march  for  the  nearest  Mo- 
hawk town." 

Father  Jogues  lived  among  his  captors  until 
the  fall  of  1643,  when  he  escaped  in  a  vessel 
from  the  Dutch  settlement  of  Rensselaerswyck 
(Albany),  to  which  place  the  Iroquois  had  gone 
to  trade  with  the  inhabitants.  He  arrived  at  the 
Jesuit  college  of  Rennes,  France,  in  a  most  des- 
titute condition,  on  the  5th  of  January,  1644, 
where  he  was  joyfully  received  and  kindly  cared 
for.  When  he  appeared  before  Queen  Anne  of 
Austria,  the  woman  who  wore  a  diadem  thought 
it  a  privilege  to  kiss  his  mutilated  hands.  In  the 
Roman  Catholic  church  a  deformed  or  mutilated 
priest  cannot  say  mass;  he  must  be  a  perfect 
man  in  body  and  mind  before  the  Lord.  Father 
Jogues  wished  to  return  to  his  old  missionary 
field;  so,  to  restore  to  him  his  lost  right  of  saying 
mass,  the  Pope  granted  his  prayer  by  a  special 


46  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

dispensation.  In  the  spring  of  1643  he  returned 
to  the  St.  Lawrence  country  to  found  a  new  mis- 
sion, to  be  called  the  Mission  of  Martyrs.  His 
Superior  at  Montreal  ordered  him  to  proceed  to 
the  country  of  the  Mohawks,  and  in  company 
with  Sieur  Bourdon,  a  government  engineer,  and 
six  Indians,  he  followed  the  Richelieu  and  Cham- 
plain,  which  the  savages  called  "the  doorway 
of  the  country,"  until  the  little  party  stood  on 
the  northern  end  of  Lake  George,  on  the  even- 
ing of  Corpus  Christi;  and  with  the  catholic 
spirit  of  the  Jesuit  missionary  he  christened  it 
Lac  St.  Sacrement,  and  this  name  it  bore  for  a 
whole  century.  On  the  i8th  of  October,  1646, 
the  tomahawk  of  the  savage  ended  the  life 
of  Father  Jogues,  who,  after  suffering  many  tor- 
tures and  indignities  from  his  Iroquois  captors, 
died  in  their  midst  while  working  for  their  salva- 
tion in  his  field  of  Christian  labor. 

The  right  of  a  discoverer  to  name  new  lakes 
and  rivers  is  old  and  unquestioned.  A  mission- 
ary of  the  cross  penetrated  an  unexplored  wil- 
derness and  found  this  noblest  gem  of  the  lower 
Adirondacks,  unknown  to  civilized  man.  Im- 
pressed with  this  sublime  work  of  his  Creator, 
the  martyred  priest  christened  it  St.  Sacrement. 
One  hundred  years  later  came  troops  of  soldiers 
with  mouths  filled  with  strange  oaths,  cursing 
their  enemies.  What  respect  had  they  for  the 
rights  of  discoverers  or  martyred  missionaries? 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  47 

So  General  Johnson,  "  an  ambitious  Irishman," 
discarded  the  Christian  name  of  the  lake  and 
replaced  it  with  the  English  one  of  George. 
He  did  not  name  it  after  St.  George,  the  patron 
saint  of  England,  of  whom  history  asserts  that 
he  "  was  identical  with  a  native  of  either  Cappa- 
docia  or  Cilicia,  who  raised  himself  by  flattery 
of  the  great  from  the  meanest  circumstances  to 
be  purveyor  of  bacon  for  the  army,  and  who  was 
put  to  death  with  two  of  his  ministers  by  a  mob, 
for  peculations,  A»  D.  361;"  but  he  took  that  of 
a  sensual  king,  George  of  England,  in  order  to 
advance  his  own  interests  with  that  monarch. 

For  more  than  a  century  Lake  George  was  the 
highway  between  Canada  and  the  Hudson  River. 
Its  pure  waters  were  so  much  esteemed  as  to  be 
taken  regularly  to  Canada  to  be  consecrated  and 
used  in  the  Roman  Catholic  churches  in  baptis- 
mal and  other  sacred  rites.  The  lake  was  fre- 
quently occupied  by  armies,  and  the  forts  George 
and  William  Henry,  at  the  southern  end,  possess 
most  interesting  historical  associations.  The 
novelist  Cooper  made  Lake  George  a  region  of 
romance.  To  the  young  generation  of  Ameri- 
cans who  yearly  visit  its  shores  it  is  an  El 
Dorado,  and  the  very  air  breathes  love  as  they 
glide  in  their  light  boats  over  its  pellucid  waters, 
adding  to  the  picturesqueness  of  the  scene,  and 
supplying  that  need  ever  felt,  no  matter  what 
the  natural  beauty,  —  the  presence  of  man.  I 


48  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

believe  even  the  Garden  of  Eden  itself  could 
riot  have  been  perfect  till  among  its  shady 
groves  fell  the  shadows  of  our  first  parents. 
The  cool  retreats,  the  jutting  promontories,  the 
moss-covered  rocks  against  which  the  waves 
softly  break,  —  if  these  had  tongues,  they  would, 
like  Tennyson's  Brook,  "  go  on  forever,"  for 
surely  they  would  never  have  done  telling  the 
tender  tales  they  have  heard.  Nor  would  it  be 
possible  to  find  a  more  fitting  spot  for  the  cul- 
tivation of  love  and  sentiment  than  this  charming 
lake  affords;  for  Nature  seems  to  have  created 
Lake  George  in  one  of  her  happiest  moments. 
This  lake  is  about  thirty-four  miles  long,  and 
varies  in  width  from  -one  to  four  miles.  Its 
greatest  depth  is  about  the  same  as  that  of 
Champlain.  It  possesses  (like  all  the  American 
lakes  when  used  as  fashionable  watering-places) 
the  usual  three  hundred  and  sixty-five  islands. 

When  I  left  the  Mayeta  I  followed  a  narrow 
footpath  to  a  rough  mountain  road,  which  in 
turn  led  me  through  the  forests  towards  Lake 
George.  In  an  isolated  dell  I  found  the  home 
of  one  Levi  Smith,  who  piloted  me  through  the 
woods  to  the  lake,  and  ferried  me  in  a  skiff 
across  to  Hague,  when  I  dined  at  the  hotel,  and 
resumed  my  journey  along  the  shores  to  Sabbath 
Day  Point,  where  at  four  o'clock  p.  M.  a  steamer 
on  its  trip  from  Ticonderoga  to  the  south  end  of 
the  lake  stopped  and  took  me  on  board.  We 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  49 

steamed  southward  to  where  high  mountains 
shut  in  the  lake,  and  for  several  miles  threaded 
the  "  Narrows "  with  its  many  pretty  islands, 
upon  one  of  which  Mr.  J.  Henry  Hill,  the  her- 
mit-artist, had  erected  his  modest  home,  and 
where  he  toiled  at  his  studies  early  and  late, 
summer  and  winter.  Three  goats  and  a  squirrel 
were  his  only  companions  in  this  lonely  but 
romantic  spot. 

During  one  cold  winter,  when  the  lake  was 
frozen  over  to  a  depth  of  two  feet,  and  the  for- 
ests were  mantled  in  snow,  Mr.  Hill's  brother, 
a  civil  engineer,  made  a  visit  to  this  icy  region, 
and  the  two  brothers  surveyed  the  Narrows, 
making  a  correct  map  of  that  portion  of  the  lake, 
with  all  its  islands  carefully  located.  Mr.  Hill 
afterwards  made  an  etching  of  this  map,  sur- 
rounding it  with  an  artistic  border  representing 
objects  of  interest  in  the  locality. 

Late  in  the  afternoon  the  steamer  landed  me 
at  Crosbyside,  on  the  east  shore,  about  a  mile 
from  the  head  of  the  lake,  resting  beneath  the 
shady  groves  of  which  I  beheld  one  of  the  most 
charming  views  of  Lake  George.  Early  the  fol- 
lowing morning  I  took  up  my  abode  with  a 
farmer,  one  William  Lockhart,  a  genial  and 
eccentric  gentleman,  and  a  relation  of  Sir  Wal- 
ter Scott's  son-in-law.  Mr.  Lockhart's  little 
cottage  is  half  a  mile  north  of  Crosbyside,  and 
near  the  high  bluff  which  Mr.  Charles  O'Conor, 

4 


50  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

the  distinguished  lawyer  of  New  York  city,  pre- 
sented to  the  Paulist  Fathers,  whose  establish- 
ment is  on  Fifty-ninth  Street  in  that  metropolis. 
Here  the  members  of  the  new  Order  come  to 
pass  their  summer  vacations,  bringing  with  them 
their  theological  students.  The  Paulists  are  hard 
workers,  visiting  and  holding  "missions"  in  Min- 
nesota, California,  and  other  parts  of  the  United 
States.  They  seem  to  feel  forcibly  the  truth 
expressed  in  these  lines,  which  are  to  be  found 
in  "Aspirations  of  Nature,"  a  work  written  by 
the  founder  of  their  order,  Father  Hecker:  "Ex- 
istence is  not  a  dream,  but  a  solemn  reality. 
Life  was  not  given  to  be  thrown  away  on  mis- 
erable sophisms,  but  to  be  employed  in  earnest 
search  after  truth." 

Mr.  Lockhart  kindly  offered  to  escort  me  to  the 
convent  of  St.  Mary's  of  the  Lake;  and  after 
following  the  mountain  road  for  a  quarter  of  a 
mile  to  the  north  of  the  cottage  of  my  companion, 
we  entered  the  shady  grounds  of  the  convent  and 
were  kindly  received  on  the  long  piazza  by  the 
Father  Superior,  Rev.  A.  F.  Hewit,  who  intro- 
duced me  to  several  of  his  co-laborers,  a  party 
of  them  having  just  returned  from  an  excursion 
to  the  Harbor  Islands  at  the  northern  end  of  the 
Narrows,  which  property  is  owned  by  the  Order. 
I  was  told  that  the  members  of  this  new  religious 
establishment  numbered  about  thirty,  and  that  all 
but  four  were  converts  from  our  Protestant  faith. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  51 

Their  property  in  New  York  city  is  probably 
worth  half  a  million  of  dollars,  and  the  Sunday 
schools  under  their  charge  contain  about  fif- 
teen hundred  scholars.  Here,  among  others, 
I  saw  Father  D ,  who  gave  up  his  distin- 
guished position  as  instructor  of  the  art  of  war 
at  the  Military  Academy  of  West  Point,  to  be- 
come a  soldier  of  the  Cross,  preferring  to  serve 
his  Master  by  preaching  the  gospel  of  peace 
to  mankind.  Under  an  overhanging  rock  at  a 
little  distance  were  conversing,  most  happily, 
two  young  priests,  who  a  few  years  before  had 
fought  on  opposite  sides  during  the  civil  strife 
which  resulted  in  the  preservation  of  the  Great 
Republic. 

A  mathematician  and  astronomer  from  the 
Cambridge  and  also  from  a  government  observa- 
tory, who  had  donned  the  cassock,  gave  me 
much  valuable  information  in  regard  to  the  moun- 
tain peaks  of  Lake  George,*  which  he  had  care- 

*  Heights  of  mountains  of  Lake  George,  New  York  state,  ob- 
tained by  Rev.  George  M.  Searle,  C.  S.  P. 

Finch,  between  Buck  and  Spruce,  1 595  feet. 

Cat-Head,  near  Bolton,  1640  feet. 

Prospect  Mountain,  west  of  Lake  George  village,  1730  feet. 

Spruce,  near  Buck  Mountain,  1820  feet. 

Buck,  east  shore,  south  of  Narrows,  2005  feet. 

Bear,  between  Buck  and  Black,  2200  feet. 

Black,  the  monarch  of  Lake  George,  2320  feet. 
From  another  authority  I  find  that  Lake  Champlain  is  ninety- 
three  feet  above  the  Atlantic  tide-level,  and  that  Lake  George  is 
two  hundred  and  forty  feet  above  Lake  Champlain,  or  three  hun- 
dred and  thirty-three  feet  above  the  sea. 


52  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

fully  studied  and  accurately  measured.  Through 
his  courtesy  and  generosity  I  am  enabled  to  give 
on  the  preceding  page  the  results  of  his  labors. 

The  interesting  conversation  was  here  inter- 
rupted by  the  tolling  of  the  convent  bell.  A 
deep  silence  prevailed,  as,  with  uncovered  heads 
and  upon  bended  knees,  the  whole  company  most 
devoutly  crossed  themselves  while  repeating 
a  prayer.  I  felt  much  drawn  towards  a  young 
priest  with  delicate  and  refined  features,  who 
now  engaged  me  in  conversation.  He  was  an 
adept  in  all  that  related  to  boats.  He  loved  the 
beautiful  lake,  and  was  never  happier  than  when 
upon  its  mirrored  surface,  except  when  laboring 
at  his  duties  among  the  poor  of  the  ninth  dis- 
trict of  New  York.  The  son  of  a  distinguished 
general,  he  inherited  rare  talents,  which  were 
placed  at  his  Saviour's  service.  His  Christianity 
was  so  liberal,  his  aspirations  so  noble,  his  sym- 
pathies so  strong,  that  I  became  much  interested 
in  him;  and  when  I  left  the  lake,  shortly  after, 
he  quietly  said,  "When  you  return  next  summer 
to  build  your  cottage,  let  me  help  you  plan  the 
boat-house."  But  when  I  returned  to  the  shores 
of  Lake  George,  after  the  completion  of  my  voy- 
age to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  no  helping  hand  was 
there,  and  I  built  my  boat-house  unassisted;  for 
the  gentle  spirit  of  the  missionary  Paulist  had 
gone  to  God  who  gave  it,  and  Father  Rosencranz 
was  receiving  his  reward. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  53 

When  I  joined  my  travelling  companion,  David 
Bodfish,  he  grievously  inveighed  against  the  com- 
munity of  Whitehall  because  some  dishonest 
boatmen  from  the  canal  had  appropriated  the 
stock  of  pipes  and  tobacco  he  had  laid  in  for  his 
three  or  four  days'  voyage  to  Albany.  "  Sixty 
cents'  worth  of  new  pipes  and  tobacco,"  said  Da- 
vid, in  injured  tones,  "  is  a  great  loss,  and  a  Bod- 
fish  never  was  worth  anything  at  work  without 
his  tobacco.  I  used  to  pour  speerits  down  to  keep 
my  speerits  up,  but  of  late  years  I  have  depended 
on  tobacco,  as  the  speerits  one  gets  nowadays 
isn't  the  same  kind  we  got  when  I  was  a  boy  and 
worked  in  old  Hawkin  Swamp." 

Canal  voyaging,  after  one  has  experienced  the 
sweet  influences  of  lakes  George  and  Cham- 
plain,  is  indeed  monotonous.  But  to  follow  con- 
necting watercourses  it  was  necessary  for  the 
Mayeta  to  traverse  the  Champlain  Canal  (sixty- 
four)  and  the  Erie  Canal  (six  miles)  from  White- 
hall to  Albany  on  the  Hudson  River,  a  total 
distance  of  seventy  miles. 

There  was  nothing  of  sufficient  interest  in  the 
passage  of  the  canal  to  be  worthy  of  record  save 
the  giving  way  of  a  lock-gate,  near  Troy,  and 
the  precipitating  of  a  canal-boat  into  the  vortex 
of  waters  that  followed.  By  this  accident  my 
boat  was  detained  one  day  on  the  banks  of  the 
canal.  On  the  fourth  day  the  Mayeta  ended  her 
services  by  arriving  at  Albany,  where,  after  a 


54  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

journey  of  four  hundred  miles,  experience  had 
taught  me  that  I  could  travel  more  quickly  in  a 
lighter  boat,  and  more  conveniently  and  econom- 
ically without  a  companion.  It  was  now  about 
the  first  week  in  August,  and  the  delay  which 
would  attend  the  building  of  a  new  boat  espe- 
cially adapted  for  the  journey  of  two  thousand 
miles  yet  to  be  travelled  would  not  be  lost,  as  by 
waiting  a  few  weeks,  time  would  be  given  for 
the  malaria  on  the  rivers  of  New  Jersey,  Dela- 
ware, and  Maryland,  and  even  farther  south,  to 
be  eradicated  by  the  fall  frosts.  David  returned 
to  his  New  Jersey  home  a  happy  man.  invested 
with  Che  importance  which  attaches  itself  to  a 
great  traveller.  I  had  unfortunately  contributed 
to  Mr.  Bodfish's  thirst  for  the  marvellous  by 
reading  to  him  at  night,  in  our  lonely  camp, 
Jules  Verne's  imaginative  "Journey  to  the  Cen- 
tre of  the  Earth."  David  was  in  ecstasies  over 
this  wonderful  contribution  to  fiction.  He  pre- 
ferred fiction  to  truth  at  any  time.  Once,  while 
reading  to  him  a  chapter  of  the  above  work,  his 
credulity  was  so  challenged  that  he  became  ex- 
cited, and  broke  forth  with,  "  Say,  boss,  how  do 
these  big  book-men  larn  to  lie  so  well?  does  it 
come  nat'ral  to  them,  or  is  it  got  by  edication?" 
I  have  since  heard  that  when  Mr.  Bodfish  arrived 
in  the  pine-wood  regions  of  New  Jersey  he  re- 
lated to  his  friends  his  adventures  "in  furrin 
parts,"  as  he  styled  the  Dominion  of  Canada, 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  55 

and  so  interlaced  the  facts  of  the  cruise  of  the 
Mayeta  with  the  fancies  of  the  "Journey  to  the 
Centre  of  the  Earth,"  that  to  his  neighbors  the 
region  of  the  St.  Lawrence  has  become  a  coun- 

O 

try  of  awful  and  mysterious  associations,  while 
the  more  knowing  members  of  the  community 
which  David  honors  with  his  presence  are  firmly 
convinced  that  there  never  existed  such  a  boat 
as  the  Mayeta  save  in  the  wild  imagination  of 
David  Bodfish. 

Mr.  Bodfish's  fictitious  adventures,  as  related 
by  him,  covered  many  thousand  miles  of  canoe 
voyaging.  He  had  penetrated  the  region  of  ice 
beyond  Labrador,  and  had  viewed  with  com- 
placency the  north  pole,  which  he  found  to  be 
a  pitch-pine  spar  that  had  been  erected  by 
the  Coast  Survey  "to  measure  pints  from." 
He  roundly  censured  the  crews  of  whale-ships 
which  had  mutilated  this  noble  government 
work  by  splitting  much  of  it  into  kindling-wood. 
Fortunately  about  two-thirds  of  Mr.  Bodfish's 
audience  had  no  very  clear  conceptions  of  the 
character  of  the  north  pole,  some  of  them  having 
ignored  its  very  existence.  So  they  accepted 
this  portion  of  his  narrative,  while  they  rejected 
the  most  reasonable  part  of  his  story. 

The  Mayeta  was  sent  to  Lake  George,  and 
afterwards  became  a  permanent  resident.  Two 
years  later  her  successor,  the  Paper  Canoe,  one 
of  the  most  happy  efforts  of  the  Messrs.  Waters, 


50  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

of  Troy,  was  quietly  moored  beside  her;  and 
soon  after  there  was  added  to  the  little  fleet  a 
cedar  duck-boat,  which  had  carried  me  on  a 
second  voyage  to  the  great  southern  sea.  Here, 
anchored  safely  under  the  high  cliffs,  rocked 
gently  by  the  loving  waters  of  Lake  George,  rest 
these*  faithful  friends.  They  carried  me  over 
five  thousand  miles,  through  peaceful  rivers  and 
surging  seas.  They  have  shared  my  dangers; 
they  now  share  my  peace. 


ANCHORED    AT    J^AST. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  57 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE    AMERICAN     PAPER    BOAT    AND    ENGLISH 
CANOES. 

THE  PECULIAR  CHARACTER  OF  THE  PAPER  BOAT.  —  THE  HISTORY 
OF  THE  ADOPTION  OF  PAPER  FOR  BOATS.  —  A  BOY'S  INGENU- 
ITY.—  THE  PROCESS  OF  BUILDTNG  PAPER  BOATS  DESCRIBED. — 
COLLEGE  CLUBS  ADOPTING  THEM.  —  THE  GREAT  VICTORIES  WON 
BY  PAPER  OVER  WOODEN  SHELLS  IN  1876. 

INQUIRIES  regarding  the  history  and  dura- 
bility of  paper  boats  occasionally  reach  me 
through  the  medium  of  the  post-office.  After 
all  the  uses  to  which  paper  has  been  put  during 
the  last  twenty  years,  the  public  is  yet  hardly 
convinced  that  the  flimsy  material,  paper,  can 
successfully  take  the  place  of  wood  in  the  con- 
struction of  light  pleasure-boats,  canoes,  and 
racing  shells.  Yet  the  idea  has  become  an  ac- 
complished fact.  The  success  of  the  victorious 
paper  shells  of  the  Cornell  College  navy,  which 
were  enlisted  in  the  struggles  of  two  seasons  at 
Saratoga,  against  no  mean  antagonists,  —  the  col- 
lege crews  of  the  United  States,  —  surely  proves 
that  in  strength,  stiffness,  speed,  and  fineness  of 
model,  the  paper  boat  is  without  a  rival. 

When  used   in   its   own   peculiar  sphere,  the 


58  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

improved  paper  boat  will  be  found  to  possess  the 
following  merits:  less  weight,  greater  strength, 
stiffness,  durability,  and  speed  than  a  wooden 
boat  of  the  same  size  and  model;  and  the  moulded 
paper  shell  will  retain  the  delicate  lines  so  essen- 
tial to  speed,  while  the  brittle  wooden  shell  yields 
more  or  less  to  the  warping  influences  of  sun  and 
moisture.  A  comparison  of  the  strength  of  wood 
and  paper  for  boats  has  been  made  by  a  writer  in 
the  Cornell  Times,  a  journal  published  by  the 
students  of  that  celebrated  New  York  college: 
"Let  us  take  a  piece  of  wood  and  a  piece  of 
paper  of  the  same  thickness,  and  experiment 
with,  use,  and  abuse  them  both  to  the  same  ex- 
tent. Let  the  wood  be  of  one-eighth  of  an  inch 
in  thickness  —  the  usual  thickness  of  shell-boats, 
and  the  paper  heavy  pasteboard,  both  one  foot 
square.  Holding  them  up  by  one  side,  strike 
them  with  a  hammer,  and  observe  the  result. 
The  wood  will  be  cracked,  to  say  the  least ; 
the  pasteboard,  whirled  out  of  your  hand,  will 
only  be  dented,  at  most.  Take  hold  and  bend 
them:  the  wood  bends  to  a  certain  degree,  and 
then  splits;  the  pasteboard,  bent  to  the  same  de- 
gree, is  not  affected  in  the  least.  Take  a  knife 
and  strike  them:  the  wood  is  again  split,  the 
pasteboard  only  pierced.  Place  them  on  the 
water:  the  wood  floats  for  an  indefinite  time;  the 
pasteboard,  after  a  time,  soaks,  and  finally  sinks, 
as  was  to  be  expected.  But  suppose  we  soak  the 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  59 

pasteboard  in  marine  glue  before  the  experiment, 
then  we  find  the  pasteboard  equally  as  imper- 
vious to  the  water  as  wood,  and  as  buoyant,  if  of 
the  same  weight;  but,  to  be  of  the  same  weight, 
it  must  be  thinner  than  the  wood,  yet  even  then 
it  stands  the  before-mentioned  tests  as  well  as 
when  thicker;  and  it  will  be  found  to  stand  all 
tests  much  better  than  wood,  even  when  it 
weighs  considerably  less. 

"  Now,  enlarging  our  pieces,  and  moulding 
them  into  boats  of  the  same  weight,  we  find  the 
following  differences:  Wood,  being  stiff  and 
liable  to  split,  can  only  be  moulded  into  com- 
parative form.  Paper,  since  it  can  be  rendered 
perfectly  pliable,  can  be  pressed  into  any  shape 
desirable;  hence,  any  wished-for  fineness  of  lines 
can  be  given  to  the  model,  and  the  paper  will 
assume  the  identical  shape,  after  which  it  can  be 
water-proofed,  hardened,  and  polished.  Paper 
neither  swells,  nor  shrinks,  nor  cracks,  hence  it 
does  not  leak,  is  always  ready  for  use,  always 
serviceable.  As  to  cost,  there  is  very  little  dif- 
ference between  the  two;  the  cost  being  within 
twenty-five  dollars,  more  or  less,  the  same  for 
both.  Those  wjio  use  paper  boats  think  them 
very  near  perfection ;  and  surely  those  who  have 
the  most  to  do  with  boats  ought  to  know,  preju- 
dice aside,  which  is  the  best." 

An  injury  to  a  paper  boat  is  easily  repaired  by 
a  patch  of  strong  paper  and  a  coating  of  shellac 


60  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

put  on  with  a  hot  iron.  As  the  paper  boat  is 
a  novelty  with  many  people,  a  sketch  of  its  early 
history  may  prove  interesting  to  the  reader.  Mr. 
George  A.  Waters,  the  son  of  the  senior  member 
of  the  firm  of  E.  Waters  &  Sons,  of  Troy,  New 
York,  was  invited  some  years  since  to  a  masquer- 
ade party.  The  boy  repaired  to  a  toy  shop  to 
purchase  a  counterfeit  face;  but,  thinking  the 
price  (eight  dollars)  was  more  than  he  could 
afford  for  a  single  evening's  sport,  he  borrowed 
the  mask  for  a  model,  from  which  he  produced  a 
duplicate  as  perfect  as  was  the  original.  While 
engaged  upon  his  novel  work,  an  idea  impressed 
itself  upon  his  ingenious  brain.  "  Cannot,"  he 
queried,  "a  paper  shell  be  made  upon  the  wooden 
model  of  a  boat?  And  will  not  a  shell  thus  pro- 
duced, after  being  treated  to  a  coat  of  varnish, 
float  as  well,  and  be  lighter  than  a  wooden  boat?  " 
This  was  in  March,  1867,  while  the  youth  was 
engaged  in  the  manufacture  of  paper  boxes. 
Having  repaired  a  wooden  shell-boat  by  cover- 
ing the  cracks  with  sheets  of  stout  paper  cemented 
to  the  wood,  the  result  satisfied  him;  and  he  im- 
mediately applied  his  attention  to  the  further 
development  of  his  bright  idea. .  Assisted  by  his 
father,  Mr.  Elisha  Waters,  the  enterprise  was 
commenced  "  by  taking  a  wooden  shell,  thirteen 
inches  wide  and  thirty  feet  long,  as  a  mould, 
and  covering  the  entire  surface  of  its  bottom  and 
sides  wTith  small  sheets  of  strong  Manila  paper, 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  6 1 

glued  together,  and  superposed  on  each  other,  so 
that  the  joints  of  one  layer  were  covered  by  the 
middle  of  the  sheet  immediately  above,  until  a 
sheet  of  paper  had  been  formed  one-sixteenth  of 
an  inch  in  thickness.  The  fabric  thus  con- 
structed, after  being  carefully  dried,  was  re- 
moved from  the  mould  and  fitted  up  with  a 
suitable  frame,  consisting  of  a  lower  keelson,  two 
inwales,  the  bulkhead;  in  short,  all  the  usual 
parts  of  the  frame  of  a  wooden  shell,  except  the 
timbers,  or  ribs,  of  which  none  were  used  —  the 
extreme  stiffness  of  the  skin  rendering  them  un- 
necessary. Its  surface  was  then  carefully  water- 
proofed with  suitable  varnishes,  and  the  work  was 
completed.  Trials  proved  that,  rude  as  was  this 
first  attempt  compared  with  the  elegant  craft 
now  turned  out  from  paper,  it  had  marked  merits, 
among  which  were,  its  remarkable  stiffness,  the 
symmetry  of  the  hull  with  respect  to  its  long 
axis,  and  the  smoothness  of  the  water-surface." 

A  gentleman,  who  possesses  excellent  judg- 
ment and  long  experience  in  all  that  relates  to 
paper   boats,   furnishes    me   with    the    following 
valuable  information,  which  I  feel  sure  will  inter-  » 
est  the  reader. 

"  The  process  of  building  the  paper  shell-boat 
is  as  follows:  The  dimensions  of  the  boat  having 
been  determined  upon,  the  first  step  is  to  con- 
struct a  wooden  model,  or  form,  an  exact  fac- 
simile of  the  desired  boat,  on  which  to  mould 


62  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

the  paper  skin.  For  this  purpose  the  lines  of  the 
boat  are  carefully  drawn  out  of  the  full  size,  and 
from  the  drawings  thus  made  the  model  is  pre- 
pared. It  is  built  of  layers  of  well-seasoned 
pine,  securely  fastened  together  to  form  one  solid 
mass;  which,  after  having  been  laid  up  of  the 
general  outline  required,  is  carefully  worked  off, 
until  its  surface,  which  is  made  perfectly  smooth, 
exactly  conforms  to  the  selected  lines,  and  its 
beam,  depth,  and  length  are  those  of  the  given 
boat.  During  the  process  of  its  construction, 
suitable  rabbets  are  cut  to  receive  the  lower  keel- 
son, the  two  inwales,  and  the  bow  and  stern 
deadwoods,  which,  being  put  in  position,  are 
worked  off  so  that  their  surfaces  are  flush  with 
that  of  the  model,  and  forming,  as  it  were,  an 
integral  part  of  it.  It  being  important  that  these 
parts  should,  in  trie  completed  boat,  be  firmly 
attached  to  the  skin,  their  surface  is,  at  this  part 
of  the  process,  covered  with  a  suitable  adhesive 
preparation. 

:?  The  model  is  now  ready  to  be  covered  with 
paper.  Two  kinds  are  used:  that  made  from  the 
best  Manila,  and  that  prepared  from  pure  un- 
bleached linen  stock;  the  sheets  being  the  full 
length  of  the  model,  no  matter  what  that  may 
be.  If  Manila  paper  is  used,  the  first  sheet  is 
dampened,  laid  smoothly  on  the  model,  and 
securely  fastened  in  place  by  tacking  it  to  cer- 
tain rough  strips  attached  to  its  upper  face. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  63 

Other  sheets  are  now  superposed  on  this  and  on 
each  other,  and  suitably  cemented  together;  the 
number  depending  upon  the  size  of  the  boat  and 
the  stiffness  required.  If  linen  paper  is  used,  but 
one  sheet  is  employed,  of  such  weight  and  di- 
mensions that,  when  dry,  it  will  give  just  the 
thickness  of  skin  necessary.  Should  the  surface 
of  the  model  be  concave  in  parts,  as  in  the  run 
of  boats  with  square  sterns  for  instance,  the  paper 
is  made  to  conform  to  these  surfaces  by  suitable 
convex  moulds,  which  also  hold  the  paper  in 
place  until,  by  drying,  it  has  taken  and  will  re- 
tain the  desired  form.  The  model,  with  its 
enveloping  coat  of  paper,  is  now  removed  to  the 
dry-room.  As  the  paper  skin  dries,  all  wrinkles 
disappear,  and  it  gradually  assumes  the  desired 
shape.  Finally,  when  all  moisture  has  been 
evaporated,  it  is  taken  from  the  mould  an  exact 
fac-simile  of  the  model  desired,  exceedingly  stiff, 
perfectly  symmetrical,  and  seamless. 

"The  paper  is  now  subjected  to  the  water-proof 
process,  and  the  skin,  with  its  keelson,  inwales, 
and  dead-woods  attached,  is  then  placed  in  the 
carpenter's  hands,  where  the  frame  is  completed 
in  the  usual  manner,  as  described  for  wooden 
boats.  The  paper  decks  being  put  on,  it  is  then 
ready  for  the  brass,  iron,  and  varnish  work.  As 
the  skins  of  these  boats  (racing-shells)  vary  from 
one-sixteenth  of  an  inch  in  the  singles,  to  one- 
twelfth  of  an  inch  in  the  six-oared  outriggers,  the 


64  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

wooden  frame  becomes  necessary  to  support  and 
keep  them  in  shape.  In  applying  this  invention 
to  gigs,  dingys,  canoes,  and  skiffs,  a  somewhat 
different  method  is  adopted.  Since  these  boats 
are  subjected  to  much  hard  service,  and  must  be 
so  constructed  as  to  permit  the  occupant  to  move 
about  in  them  as  is  usual  in  such  craft,  a  light 
and  strong  frame  of  wood  is  prepared,  composed 
of  a  suitable  number  of  pairs  of  ribs,  with  stem 
and  stern  pieces  cut  from  the  natural  crooks  of 
hackmatack  roots.  These  are  firmly  framed  to 
two  gunwales  and  a  keelson,  extending  the 
length  of  the  boat;  the  whole  forming  the  skele- 
ton shape  of  the  desired  model.  The  forms  for 
these  boats  having  been  prepared,  as  already 
described  for  the  racing-shells,  and  the  frame 
being  let  into  this  form,  so  that  the  outer  surface 
of  the  ribs,  stem  and  stern  pieces  will  conform 
with  its  outer  surface,  the  paper  skin  is  next  laid 
upon  it.  The  skin,  manufactured  from  new,  un- 
bleached linen  stock,  is  carefully  stretched  in 
place,  and  when  perfectly  dry  is  from  one-tenth 
to  three-sixteenths  of  an  inch  thick.  Removed 
from  the  model,  it  is  water-proofed,  the  frame 
and  fittings  completed,  and  the  boat  varnished. 
In  short,  in  this  class  of  boats,  the  shape,  style, 
and  finish  are  precisely  that  of  wooden  ones,  of 
corresponding  dimensions  and  class,  except  that 
for  the  usual  wooden  sheathing  is  substituted  the 
paper  skin  as  described. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  65 

"  The  advantages  possessed  by  these  boats  over 
those  of  wood  are: 

"  By  the  use  of  this  material  for  the  skins  of 
racing-shells,  where  experience  has  demonstrated 
the  smooth  bottom  to  be  the  best,  under-water 
lines  of  any  degree  of  fineness  can  be  developed, 
which  cannot  successfully  be  produced  in  those 
of  wood,  even  where  the  streaks  are  so  reduced 
in  thickness  that  strength,  stiffness,  and  durabil- 
ity are  either  wrholly  sacrificed  or  greatly  im- 
paired. In  the  finer  varieties  of  '  dug-outs ' 
equally  fine  lines  can  be  obtained;  but  so  delicate 
are  such  boats,  if  the  sides  are  reduced  to  three- 
sixteenths  of  an  inch  or  less  in  thickness,  that  it 
is  found  practically  impossible  to  preserve  their 
original  forms  for  any  length  of  time.  Hence, 
so  far  as  this  point  is  concerned,  it  only  remains 
for  the  builder  to  select  those  models  which 
science,  guided  by  experience,  points  out  as  the 
best. 

"  The  paper  skin,  after  being  water-proofed,  is 
finished  with  hard  varnishes,  and  then  presents  a 
solid,  perfectly  smooth,  and  horny  surface  to  the 
action  of  the  water,  unbroken  by  joint l,  lap,  or 
seam.  This  surface  admits  of  being  polished  as 
smooth  as  a  coach-panel  or  a  mirror.  Unlike 
wood,  it  has  no  grain  to  be  cracked  or  split,  it 
never  shrinks,  and,  paper  being  one  of  the  best 
of  non-conductors,  no  ordinary  degree  of  heat 
or  cold  affects  its  shape  or  hardness,  and  hence 

5 


66  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

these  boats  are  admirably  adapted  for  use  in  all 
climates.  As  the  skin  absorbs  no  moisture, 
these  boats  gain  no  weight  by  use,  and,  having 
no  moisture  to  give  off  when  out  of  the  water, 
they  do  not,  like  wooden  boats,  show  the  effect 
of  exposure  to  the  air  by  leaking.  They  are, 
therefore,  in  this  respect  always  prepared  for 
service. 

:t  The  strength  and  stiffness  of  the  paper  shells 
are  most  remarkable.  To  demonstrate  it,  a  sin- 
gle shell  of  twelve  inch  beam  and  twenty-eight 
feet  long,  fitted  complete  with  its  outriggers, 
the  hull  weighing  twenty-two  pounds,  was 
placed  on  two  trestles  eight  feet  apart,  in  such  a 
manner  that  the  trestles  were  each  the  same 
distance  from  the  centre  of  the  cockpit,  which 
was  thus  entirely  unsupported.  A  man  weigh- 
ing one  hundred  and  forty  pounds  then  seated 
himself  in  it,  and  remained  in  this  position  three 
minutes.  The  deflection  caused  by  this  strain, 
being  accurately  measured,  was  found  to  be  one- 
sixteenth  of  an  inch  at  a  point  midway  between 
the  supports.  If  this  load,  applied  under  such 
abnormal  conditions,  produced  so  little  effect,  we 
can  safely  assume  that,  when  thus  loaded  and 
resting  on  the  water,  supported  throughout  her 
whole  length,  and  the  load  far  more  equally  dis- 
tributed over  the  whole  frame,  there  would  be 
no  deflection  whatever. 

"  Lightness,  when  combined  with  a  proper,  stiff- 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  67 

ness  and  strength,  being  a  very  desirable  quality, 
it  is  here  that  the  paper  boats  far  excel  their  wood- 
en rivals.  If  two  shells  are  selected,  the  one  of 
wood  and  the  other  with  a  paper  skin  and  deck, 
as  has  been  described,  of  the  same  dimensions 
and  equally  stiff,  careful  experiment  proves  that 
the  wooden  one  will  be  thirty  per  cent,  the 
heaviest.  If  those  of  the  same  dimensions  and 
equal  -weight  are  compared,  the  paper  one  will 
be  found  to  exceed  the  wooden  one  in  stiffness 
and  in  capacity  to  resist  torsional  strains  in  the 
same  proportion.  Frequent  boasts  are  made  that 
wooden  shells  can  be  and  are  built  much  lighter 
than  paper  ones;  and  if  the  quality  of  lightness 
alone  is  considered,  this  is  true;  yet  when  the 
practical  test  of  use  is  applied,  such  extremely 
light  wooden  boats  have  always  proved,  and  will 
continue  to  prove,  failures,  as  here  this  quality 
is  only  one  of  a  number  which  combine  to  make 
the  boat  serviceable.  A  wooden  shell  whose 
hull  weighs  twenty-two  pounds,  honest  weight, 
is  a  very  fragile,  short-lived  affair.  A  paper 
shell  of  the  same  dimensions,  and  of  the  same 
weight,  will  last  as  long,  and  do  as  much  work, 
as  a  wooden  one  whose  hull  turns  the  beam  at 
thirty  pounds. 

"  An  instance  of  their  remarkable  strength  is 
shown  in  the  following  case.  In  the  summer  of 
1870,  a  single  shell,  while  being  rowed  at  full 
speed,  with  the  current,  on  one  of  our  princi- 


68  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

pal  rivers,  was  run  into  the  stone  abutment  of  a 
bridge.  The  bow  struck  squarely  on  the  obsta- 
cle, and  such  was  the  momentum  of  the  mass  that 
the  oarsman  was  thrown  directly  through  the 
flaring  bow  of  the  cockpit  into  the  river.  Wit- 
nesses of  the  accident  who  were  familiar  with 
wooden  shells  declared  that  the  boat  was  ruined; 
but,  after  a  careful  examination,  only  the  bow-tip 
was  found  to  be  twisted  in  a  spiral  form,  and  the 
washboard  broken  at  the  point  by  the  oarsman 
as  he  passed  between  the  sides.  Two  dollars 
covered  the  cost  of  repair.  Had  it  been  a 
wooden  shell  the  shock  would  have  crushed  its 
stem  and  splintered  the  skin  from  the  bow  to  the 
waist." 

Old  and  cautious  seamen  tried  to  dissuade  me 
from  contracting  with  the  Messrs.  Waters  for  the 
building  of  a  stout  paper  canoe  for  my  journey. 
Harvard  College  had  not  adopted  this  "  new- 
fangled notion  "  at  that  time,  and  Cornell  had 
only  begun  to  think  of  attempting  to  out-row 
other  colleges  at  Saratoga  by  using  paper  boats. 
The  Centennial  year  of  the  independence  of  the 
United  States,  1876,  settled  all  doubts  as  to  the 
value  of  the  result  of  the  years  of  toil  of  the  in- 
ventors of  the  paper  boat.  During  the  same 
year  the  incendiary  completed  his  revengeful 
work  by  burning  the  paper-boat  manufactory 
at  Troy.  The  loss  was  a  heavy  one;  but  a  few 
weeks  later  these  unflinching  men  were  able  to 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  69 

record  the  following  victories  achieved  that  sin- 
gle season  by  their  boats. 

The  races  won  by  the  paper  boats  were : 

The  Intercollegiate  Championship  : 

Freshmen  and  University. 

The  International  Championship  at  Saratoga  : 

Singles,  Doubles,  and  Fours. 

The  National  Championship,  N.  A.  of  A.  O. : 

Singles,  Doubles,  and  Fours. 

The  World's  Championship  at  Centennial  Exhibition  : 

Singles,  Doubles,  and  Fours. 

The  Professional  Championship  of  the  United  States. 

And  every  other  important  race  of  the  season, 
besides  receiving  the  highest  honors  at  the  Cen- 
tennial Exhibition.  The  right  to  make  boats  of 
paper  in  Canada  and  in  the  United  States  is  ex- 
clusively held  by  the  Messrs.  Waters,  and  they 
are  the  only  manufacturers  of  paper  boats  in 
the  world. 

It  is  not  many  years  since  Mr.  Macgregor,  of 
London,  built  the  little  Rob  Roy  canoe,  and  in  it 
made  the  tour  of  interesting  European  waters. 
His  example  was  followed  by  an  army  of  tourists, 
and  it  is  now  a  common  thing  to  meet  canoe 
voyagers  in  miniature  flotillas  upon  the  water- 
courses of  our  own  and  foreign  lands.  Mr.  W. 
Baden-Powell,  also  an  Englishman,  perfected 
the  model  of  the  Nautilus  type  of  canoe,  which 
possesses  a  great  deal  of  sheer  with  fullness  of 
bow,  and  is  therefore  a  better  boat  for  rough 


70  VOYAGE    Of   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

water  than  the  Rob  Roy.  The  New  York  Canoe 
Club,  in  1874,  had  the  Nautilus  for  their  model. 
We  still  need  a  distinctive  American  type  for  our 
waters,  more  like  the  best  Indian  canoe  than  the 
European  models  here  presented.  These  mod- 
ern yacht-like  canoes  are  really  improved  kyaks, 
and  in  their  construction  we  are  much  indebted 
to  the  experience  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  Arctic 
Circle.  Very  few  of  the  so-called  Rob  Roy  ca- 
noes, built  in  the  United  States,  resemble  the 
original  perfected  boat  of  Mr.  Macgregor  —  the 
father  of  modern  canoe  travelling.  The  illus- 
trations given  of  English  canoes  are  from  import- 
ed models,  and  are  perfect  of  their  type. 


NOTE  TO  PAGE  72.  —  The  author  has  been  criticised  by  technical 
canoeists  for  using  oars  on  a  canoe.  On  this  cruise,  experience  proved 
that  the  paddle  could  be  used  effectively  only  two  miles  out  of  every 
three.  Head  winds  and  seas  frequently  drive  the  paddler  into  camp, 
while  the  adaptive  cruiser  pushes  on  with  oar  and  outrigger,  and  avoids 
the  loss  of  many  hours.  Many  canoeists  exploring  our  broad  water- 
courses have  adopted  the  oar  as  an  auxiliary,  —  the  paddle  properly 
taking  the  precedence.  We  are  progressing.  The  canoeist  of  1882  may 
follow  the  teachings  of  common-sense  vs.  unauthorized  technical  crit- 
icisms. Oars  on  a  light  paddling  canoe  are  out  of  place;  but  are  a 
most  effective  po%ver  on  a  heavy  cruising  canoe,  insuring  a  successful 
voyage. 


/,'/<////•  ,,f  r.li,rl;C.in«r  

MARIA    THERESA  ^, 

>ni   Altxinv   to  \'c  if  York'  Citv 

In/    Hini.iiin  River 
/•;, II, >»,;.'   by  ATtfBL*!,, 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  71 


CHAPTER    VI. 

TROY   TO    PHILADELPHIA. 

PAPER  CANOE  MARIA  THERESA.  —  THE  START. — THE  DESCENT 
OF  THE  HUDSON  RIVER.  —  CROSSING  THE  UPPER  BAY  OF  NEW 
YORK.  —  PASSAGE  OF  THE  KILLS.  —  RARITAN  RIVER.  —  THE 
CANAL  ROUTE  FROM  NEW  BRUNSWICK  TO  THE  DELAWARE 
RIVER.  —  FROM  BORDENTOWN  TO  PHILADELPHIA. 

MY  canoe  of  the  English  "Nautilus"  type 
was  completed  by  the  middle  of  October; 
and  on  the  cold,  drizzly  morning  of  the  zist  of 
the  same  month  I  embarked  in  my  little  fifty- 
eight  pound  craft  from  the  landing  of  the  paper- 
boat  manufactory  on  the  river  Hudson,  two  miles 
above  Troy.  Mr.  George  A.  Waters  put  his 
own  canoe  into  the  water,  and  proposed  to 
escort  me  a  few  miles  down  the  river.  If  I 
had  any  misgivings  as  to  the  stability  of  my 
paper  canoe  upon  entering  her  for  the  first  time, 
they  were  quickly  dispelled  as  I  passed  the 
stately  Club-house  of  the  Laureates,  which  con- 
tained nearly  forty  shells,  all  of  paper. 

The  dimensions  of  the  Maria  Theresa  were: 
length,  fourteen  feet;  beam,  twenty-eight  inches; 
depth,  amidships,  nine  inches;  height  of  bow 
from  horizontal  line,  twenty-three  inches;  height 


72  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

of  stern,  twenty  inches.  The  canoe  was  one- 
eighth  of  an  inch  in  thickness,  and  weighed 
fifty-eight  pbunds.  She  was  fitted  with  a  pair 
of  steel  outriggers,  which  could  be  easily  un- 
shipped and  stowed  away.  The  oars  were  of 
spruce,  seven  feet  eight  inches  long,  and  weighed 
three  pounds  and  a  quarter  each.  The  double 
paddle,  which  was  seven  feet  six  inches  in  length, 
weighed  two  pounds  and  a  half.  The  mast 
and  sail  —  which  are  of  no  service  on  such  a 
miniature  vessel,  and  were  soon  discarded — ' 
weighed  six  pounds.  When  I  took  on  board  at 
Philadelphia  the  canvas  deck-cover  and  the  rub- 
ber strap  which  secured  it  in  position,  and  the 
outfit,  —  the  cushion,  sponge,  provision-basket, 
and  a  fifteen-pound  case  of  charts,  —  I  found  that, 
with  my  own  weight  included  (one  hundred  and 
thirty  pounds),  the  boat  and  her  cargo,  all  told, 
provisioned  for  a  long  cruise,  fell  considerably 
short  of  the  weight  of  three  Saratoga  trunks 
containing  a  very  modest  wardrobe  for  a  lady's 
four  weeks'  visit  at  a  fashionable  watering-place. 
The  rain  ceased,  the  mists  ascended,  and  the 
sunlight  broke  upon  us  as  we  swiftly  descended 
upon  the  current  of  the  Hudson  to  Albany.  The 
city  was  reached  in  an  hour  and  a  half.  Mr. 
Waters,  pointing  his  canoe  northward,  wished  me 
bon  voyage,  and  returned  to  the  scene  of  the  tri- 
umphs of  his  patient  labors,  while  I  settled  down 
to  a  steady  row  southward.  At  Albany,  the 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  73 

capital  of  the  state,  which  is  said  to  be  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  miles  distant  from  New  York  city, 
there  is  a  tidal  rise  and  fall  of  one  foot. 

A  feeling  of  buoyancy  and  independence  came 
over  me  as  I  glided  on  the  current  of  this  noble 
stream,  with  the  consciousness  that  I  now  pos- 
sessed the  right  boat  for  my  enterprise.  It  had 
been  a  dream  of  my  youth  to  become  acquainted 
with  the  charms  of  this  most  romantic  river  of 
the  American  continent.  Its  sources  are  in  the 
clouds  of  the  Adirondacks,  among  the  cold  peaks 
of  the  northern  wilderness;  its  ending  may  be 
said  to  be  in  the  briny  waters  of  the  Atlantic, 
for  its  channel-way  has  been  sounded  outside 
of  the  sandy  beaches  of  New  York  harbor  in 
the  bosom  of  the  restless  ocean.  The  highest 
types  of  civilized  life  are  nurtured  upon  its  banks. 
Noble  edifices,  which  contain  and  preserve  the 
works  of  genius  and  of  mechanical  art,  rear  their 
proud  roofs  from  among  these  hills  on  the  lofty 
sites  of  the  picturesque  Hudson.  The  wealth 
of  the  great  city  at  its  mouth,  the  metropolis  of 
the  young  nation,  has  been  lavished  upon  the 
soil  of  the  river's  borders  to  make  it  even  more 
beautiful  and  more  fruitful.  What  river  in 
America,  along  the  same  length  of  coast-lines 
as  from  Troy  to  New  York  (one  hundred  and 
fifty-six  miles),  can  rival  in  natural  beauty 
and  artificial  applications  of  wealth  the  lovely 
Hudson?  :?  The  Hudson  River,"  says  its  genial 


74  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

historian,  Mr.  Lossing,  "  from  its  birth  among 
the  mountains  to  its  marriage  with  the  ocean, 
measures  a  distance  of  full  three  hundred 
miles." 

Captain  John  Smith's  friend,  the  Englishman 
Henry  Hudson,  while  in  the  employ  of  the 
Dutch  East  India  Company,  in  his  vessel  of 
ninety  tons,  the  Half-Moon,  being  in  search 
of  a  northwest  passage  south  of  Virginia,  cast 
anchor  outside  of  Sandy  Hook,  September  3, 
1609,  and  on  the  nth  passed  up  through  the 
Narrows  into  the  present  bay  of  New  York. 
Under  the  firm  conviction  that  he  was  on  his 
way  to  the  long-sought  Cathay,  a  day  later  he 
entered  the  Hudson  River,  where  now  stands 
the  proud  metropolis  of  America.  As  the  Half- 
Moon  ascended  the  river  the  water  lost  its  salt- 
ness,  and  by  the  time  they  were  anchored  where 
the  city  of  Albany  now  stands  all  hopes  of  Cathay 
faded  from  the  heart  of  the  mariner.  Englishmen 
called  this  river  in  honor  of  its  discoverer,  but  the 
Dutch  gave  it  the  name  of  North  River,  after 
the  Delaware  had  been  discovered  and  named 
South  River.  Thus,  while  in  1609  Samuel 
Champlain  was  exploring  the  lake  which  bears 
his  name,  Hudson  was  ascending  his  river  upon 
the  southern  water-shed.  The  historian  tells  us 
that  these  bold  explorers  penetrated  the  wilder- 
ness, one  from  the  north  and  the  other  from  the 
south,  to  within  one  hundred  miles  of  each  other. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  75 


The  same  historian  (Dr.  Lossing)  says:  ?* 
most  remote  source  of  the  extreme  western 
branch  of  our  noble  river  is  Hendricks  Spring, 
so  named  in  honor  of  Hendricks  Hudson.  We 
found  Hendricks  Spring  in  the  edge  of  a  swamp, 
cold,  shallow,  about  five  feet  in  diameter,  — 
shaded  by  trees,  shrubbery,  and  vines,  and  fringed 
with  the  delicate  brake  and  fern.  Its  waters, 
rising  within  half  a  mile  of  Long  Lake,  and  upon 
the  same  summit-level,  flow  southward  to  the 
Atlantic  more  than  three  hundred  miles;  while 
those  of  the  latter  flow  to  the  St.  Lawrence,  and 
reach  the  same  Atlantic  a  thousand  miles  away 
to  the  far  northeast." 

Since  Dr.  Lossing  visited  the  western  head  of 
the  Hudson  River,  the  true  and  highest  source 
of  the  stream  has  probably  been  settled  by  a 
gentleman  possessing  scientific  acquirements  and 
inflexible  purpose.  On  the  plateau  south  of 
Mount  Marcy,  State-Surveyor  Colvin  found 
the  little  Lake  Tear-of-the-Clouds  to  be  the 
loftiest  sheet  of  water  in  the  state,  —  four  thou- 
sand three  hundred  and  twenty-six  feet  above 
the  sea,  —  and  proved  it  to  be  the  lake-head  of 
the  great  river  Hudson.  A  second  little  pond  in 
a  marsh  on  a  high  plateau,  at  the  foot  of  Mount 
Redfield,  was  also  discovered,  —  "margined  and 
embanked  with  luxuriant  and  deep  sphagnous 
moss,"  —  which  was  named  by  the  party  Moss 
Lake.  It  was  found  to  flow  into  the  Hudson. 


76  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER   CANOE. 

A  beautiful  little  bivalve  shell,  three-sixteenths 
of  an  inch  in  diameter,  of  an  undescribed  species, 
was  found  in  the  pellucid  water,  and  thus  a  new 
shell  was  handed  over  to  conchology,  and  a  new 
river  source  to  geography,  in  the  same  hour. 
This  pool  is  four  thousand  three  hundred  and 
twelve  feet  above  tide-water,  and  only  a  few  feet 
lower  than  its  sister,  Tear-of-the-Clouds  —  the 
highest  source  of  the  Hudson. 

Should  the  state  of  New  York  adopt  Mr.  Col- 
vin's  suggestion,  to  reserve  six  hundred  square 
miles  of  the  Adirondack  region  for  a  public  park, 
the  pool  Tear-of-the-Clouds  will  be  within  the 
reservation.  The  waters  of  these  baby  foun- 
tains are  swollen  by  contributions  from  the 
streams,  ponds,  and  lakes  of  the  Adirondack 
wilderness,  until  along  the  banks  of  Fishing 
Brook,  a  tributary  of  the  Hudson,  the  water  is 
utilized  at  the  first  saw-mill.  A  few  miles  lower 
down  the  forests  are  vexed  by  the  axe  of  the 
lumbermen,  and  logs  are  floated  down  the  river 
one  hundred  miles  to  Glens  Falls,  where  the 
State  Dam  and  Great  Boom  are  located.  Half 
a  million  logs  have  been  gathered  there  in  a  sin- 
gle spring. 

It  was  upon  the  Hudson  that  the  first  suc- 
cessful steamboat,  built  by  Robert  Fulton,  made 
its  voyage  to  Albany,  the  engine  having  been 
built  by  Watt  &  Bolton,  in  England. 

From   Mr.  Lossing  we  obtain  the  following. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  77 

:f  The  Clermont  was  one  hundred  feet  long, 
twelve  feet  wide,  and  seven  feet  deep.  The 
following  advertisement  appeared  in  the  Albany 
Gazette  on  the  ist  of  September,  1807: 

"  The  North  River  steamboat  will  leave  Paulus  Hook  (Jersey 
City)  on  Friday,  the  4th  of  September,  at  9  in  the  morning,  and 
arrive  at  Albany  on  Saturday  at  9  in  the  afternoon.  Provisions, 
good  berths,  and  accommodations  are  provided.  The  charge  to 
each  passenger  is  as  follows  : 

To  Newburgh,    ....  3  Dollars.     .     .     Time,  14  hours. 

"   Poughkeepsie,  ...  4         "...."      17      " 

"  Esopus, 5         "...."      20      " 

"  Hudson, 5i       "...."      30      « 

"  Albany, 7         "...•"      36      "     ." 

The  trip,  which  was  made  against  a  strong 
head  wind,  was  entirely  successful.  The  large 
steamers  can  now  make  the  trip  from  New  York 
to  Albany  in  about  twelve  hours. 

As  I  pulled  easily  along  the  banks  of  the  river, 
my  eyes  feasted  upon  the  gorgeous  coloring  of 
the  autumnal  foliage,  which  formed  a  scene  of 
beauty  never  to  be  forgotten.  The  rapid  absorp- 
tion of  oxygen  by  the  leaves  in  the  fall  months 
produces,  in  northern  America,  these  vivid  tints 
which  give  to  the  country  the  appearance  of  a 
land  covered  with  a  varied  and  brilliant  garment, 
"  a  coat  of  many  colors."  A  soft,  hazy  light  per- 
vaded the  atmosphere,  while  at  the  same  time 
the  October  air  was  gently  exhilarating  to  the 
nervous  system.  At  six  o'clock  p.  M.  the  canoe 


78  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

arrived  at  Hudson  City,  which  is  on  the  east 
bank  of  the  river,  and  I  completed  a  row  of 
thirty-eight  statute  miles,  according  to  local  au- 
thority; but  in  reality  forty-nine  miles  by  the 
correct  charts  of  the  United  States  Coast  Survey. 
After  storing  the  Maria  Theresa  in  a  shed,  I  re- 
paired to  a  dismal  hotel  for  the  night. 

At  seven  o'clock  the  next  morning  the  river 
was  mantled  in  a  dense  fog,  but  I  pushed  off  and 
guided  myself  by  the  sounds  of  the  running 
trains  on  the  Hudson  River  Railroad.  This  cor- 
poration does  such  an  immense  amount  of 
freighting  that,  if  their  freight  trains  were  con- 
nected, a  continuous  line  of  eighty  miles  would 
be  constructed,  of  which  sixteen  miles  are 
always  in  transit  day  and  night.  Steamboats 
and  tugs  with  canal-boats  in  tow  were  groping 
about  the  river  in  the  misty  darkness,  blowing 
whistles  every  few  minutes  to  let  people  know 
that  the  pilot  was  not  sleeping  at  the  wheel. 
There  was  a  grand  clearing  up  at  noon;  and  as 
the  sun  broke  through  the  mist,  the  beautiful 
shores  came  into  view  like  a  vivid  flame  of 
scarlet,  yellow,  brown,  and  green.  It  was  the 
death-song  of  summer,  and  her  dying  notes  the 
tinted  leaves,  each  one  giving  to  the  wind  a  sad 
strain  as  it  softly  dropped  to  the  earth,  or  was 
quickly  hurled  into  space. 

A  few  miles  south  of  Hudson  City,  on  the 
west  bank,  the  Catskill  stream  enters  the  river. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  79 

From  this  point  the  traveller  may  penetrate  the 
picturesque  country  of  the  Appalachian  range, 
where  its  wild  elevations  were  called  Onti  Ora, 
or  "  mountains  of  the  sky,"  by  the  aborigines. 

Roundout,  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Hudson, 
is  the  terminus  of  the  Delaware  and  Hudson 
Canal,  which  connects  it  with  Port  Jervis  on  the 
Delaware,  a  distance  of  fifty-four  miles.  This 
town,  the  outlet  of  the  coal  regions,  I  passed 
after  meridian.  As  I  left  Hudson  on  the  first  of 
the  flood-tide,  I  had  to  combat  it  for  several 
hours;  but  I  easily  reached  Hyde  Park  Landing 
(which  is  on  the  left  bank  of  the  stream  and,  by 
local  authority,  thirty-five  miles  from  Hudson 
City)  at  five  o'clock  P.  M.  The  wharf-house 
sheltered  the  canoe,  and  a  hotel  in  the  village, 
half  a  mile  distant  on  the  high  plains,  its  owner. 
I  was  upon  the  river  by  seven  o'clock  the  next 
morning.  The  day  was  varied  by  strong  gusts 
of  wind  succeeded  by  calms.  Six  miles  south 
of  Hyde  Park  is  the  beautiful  city  of  Pough- 
keepsie  with  its  eighteen  thousand  inhabitants, 
and  the  celebrated  Vassar  Female  College.  Eight 
miles  down  the  river,  and  on  the  same  side,  is  a 
small  village  called  New  Hamburg.  The  rocky 
promontory  at  the  foot  of  which  the  town  is 
built  is  covered  with  the  finest  arbor  vitse  forest 
probably  in  existence.  Six  miles  below,  on  the 
west  bank,  is  the  important  city  of  Newburg, 
one  of  the  termini  of  the  New  York  and  Erie 


8o  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

Railroad.  Four  miles  below,  the  river  narrows 
and  presents  a  grand  view  of  the  north  entrance 
of  the  Highlands,  with  the  Storm  King  Mountain 
rising  fully  one  thousand  five  hundred  feet  above 
the  tide.  The  early  Dutch  navigators  gave  to 
this  peak  the  name  of  Boter-burg  (Butter-Hill), 
but  it  was  rechristened  Storm  King  by  the  au- 
thor N.  P.Willis,  whose  late  residence,  Idlewild, 
commands  a  fine  view  of  Newburg  Bay. 

When  past  the  Storm  King,  the  Crow-Nest  and 
the  almost  perpendicular  front  of  Kidd's  Plug 
Cliff  tower  aloft,  and  mark  the  spot  where  Kidd 
(as  usual)  was  supposed  to  have  buried  a  por- 
tion of  that  immense  sum  of  money  with  which 
popular  belief  invests  hundreds  of  localities 
along  the  watercourses  of  the  continent.  Now 
the  Narrows  above  West  Point  were  entered, 
and  the  current  against  a  head-wind  made  the 
passage  unusually  exciting.  The  paper  canoe 
danced  over  the  boiling  expanse  of  water,  and 
neared  the  west  shore  about  a  mile  above  'the 
United  States  Military  Academy,  when  a  shell, 
from  a  gun  on  the  grounds  of  that  institution, 
burst  in  the  water  within  a  few  feet  of  the  boat. 
I  now  observed  a  target  set  upon  a  little  flat  at 
the  foot  of  a  gravelly  hill  close  to  the  beach. 
As  a  second,  and  finally  a  third  shell  exploded 
near  me,  I  rowed  into  the  rough  water,  much  dis- 
gusted with  cadet-practice  and  military  etiquette. 
After  dark  the  canoe  was  landed  on  the  deck  of. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  8 I 

a  schooner  which  was  discharging  slag  or  cinder 
at  Fort  Montgomery  Landing.  I  scrambled  up 
the  hill  to  the  only  shelter  that  could  be  found,  a 
small  country  store  owned  by  a  Captain  Conk 
who  kept  entertainment  for  the  traveller.  Rough 
fellows  and  old  crones  came  in  to  talk  about  the 
spooks  that  had  been  seen  in  the  neighboring 
hills.  It  was  veritable  "Sleepy  Hollow"  talk. 
The  physician  of  the  place,  they  said,  had  been 
"  skert  clean  off  a  bridge  the  other  night." 

Embarking  the  following  morning  from  this 
weird  and  hilly  country,  that  prominent  natural 
feature,  Anthony's  Nose,  which  was  located  on 
the  opposite  shore,  strongly  appealed  to  my  im- 
agination and  somewhat  excited  my  mirth.  One 
needs  a  powerful  imagination,  I  thought,  to  live 
in  these  regions  where  the  native  element,  the 
hill-folk,  dwell  so  fondly  and  earnestly  upon  the 
ghostly  and  mysterious.  Three  miles  down  the 
river,  Dunderberg,  "  the  thundering  mountain," 
on  the  west  bank,  with  the  town  of  Peekskill  on 
the  opposite  shore,  was  passed,  and  I  entered 
Haverstraw  Bay,  the  widest  part  of  the  river. 
"  Here,"  says  the  historian,  "  the  fresh  and  salt 
water  usually  contend,  most  equally,  for  the 
mastery;  and  here  the  porpoise  is  often  seen  in 
large  numbers  sporting  in  the  summer  sun.  Here 
in  the  spring  vast  numbers  of  shad  are  caught 
while  on  their  way  to  spawning-beds  in  fresh- 
water coves."  Haverstraw  Bay  was  crossed,  and 
6 


82  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

Tarrytown  passed,  when  I  came  to  the  pictur- 
esque little  cottage  of  a  great  man  now  gone 
from  among  us.  Many  pleasant  memories  of 
his  tales  rose  in  my  mind  as  I  looked  upon 
Sunnyside,  the  home  of  Washington  Irving, 
nestled  in  the  grove  of  living  green,  its  white 
stuccoed  walls  glistening  in  the  bright  sunlight, 
and  its  background  of  grand  villas  looming  up  on 
every  side.  At  Irvington  Landing,  a  little  further 
down  the  river,  I  went  ashore  to  pass  Sunday 
with  friends;  and  on  the  Monday  following,  in  a 
dense  fog,  proceeded  on  my  route  to  New  York. 

Below  Irvington  the  far-famed  "  Palisades," 
bold-faced  precipices  of  trap-rock,  offer  their 
grandest  appearance  on  the  west  side  of  the 
Hudson.  These  singular  bluffs,  near  Hoboken, 
present  a  perpendicular  front  of  three  hundred  or 
four  hundred  feet  in  height.  Piles  of  broken  rock 
rest  against  their  base:  the  contribution  of  the 
cliffs  above  from  the  effects  of  frost  and  sun. 

While  approaching  the  great  city  of  New 
York,  strong  squalls  of  wind,  blowing  against 
the  ebb-tide,  sent  swashy  waves  into  my  open 
canoe,  the  sides  of  which,  amidships,  were  only 
five  or  six  inches  above  water;  but  the  great 
buoyancy  of  the  light  craft  and  its  very  smooth 
exterior  created  but  little  friction  in  the  watei 
and  made  her  very  seaworthy,  when  carefully 
watched  and  handled,  even  without  a  deck  of 
canvas  or  wood.  While  the  canoe  forged  aheac 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  83 

through  the  troubled  waters,  and  the  breezes 
loaded  with  the  saltness  of  the  sea  now  near  at 
hand  struck  my  back,  I  confess  that  a  longing  to 
reach  Philadelphia,  where  I  could  complete  my 
outfit  and  increase  the  safety  of  my  little  craft, 
gave  renewed  vigor  to  my  stroke  as  I  exchanged 
the  quiet  atmosphere  of  the  country  for  the 
smoke  and  noise  of  the  city.  Every  instinct  was 
now  challenged,  and  every  muscle  brought  into 
action,  as  I  dodged  tug-boats,  steamers,  yachts, 
and  vessels,  while  running  the  thoroughfare 
along  the  crowded  wharves  between  New  York 
on  one  side  and  Jersey  City  on  the  other.  I 
found  the  slips  between  the  piers  most  excellent 
ports  of  refuge  at  times,  when  the  ferry-boats, 
following  each  other  in  quick  succession,  made 
the  river  with  its  angry  tide  boil  like  a  vortex. 
The  task  soon  ended,  and  I  left  the  Hudson  at 
Castle  Garden  and  entered  the  upper  bay  of  New 
York  harbor.  As  it  was  dark,  I  would  gladly 
have  gone  ashore  for  the  night,  but  a  great  city 
offers  no  inducement  for  a  canoeist  to  land  as  a 
stranger  at  its  wharves. 

A  much  more  pleasant  reception  awaited  me 
down  on  Staten  Island,  a  gentleman  having  noti- 
fied me  by  mail  that  he  would  welcome  the  ca- 
noe and  its  owner.  The  ebb  had  ceased,  and 
the  incoming  tide  was  being  already  felt  close 
in  shore;  so  with  tide  and  wind  against  me. 
and  the  darkness  of  night  settling  down  gloomily 


84  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

upon  the  wide  bay,  I  pulled  a  strong  oar  for  five 
miles  to  the  entrance  of  Kill  Van  Kull  Strait, 
which  separates  Staten  Island  from  New  Jersey 
and  connects  the  upper  bay  with  Raritan  Bay. 

The  bright  beams  from  the  light-house  on 
Robbin's  Reef,  which  is  one  mile  and  a  quarter 
off  the  entrance  of  the  strait,  guided  me  on  my 
course.  The  head-sea,  in  little,  splashy  waves, 
began  to  fill  my  canoe.  The  water  soon  reached 
the  foot-rest;  but  there  was  no  time  to  stop  to 
bale  out  the  boat,  for  a  friendly  current  was  near, 
and  if  once  reached,  my  little  craft  would  enter 
smoother  waters.  The  flood  which  poured  into 
the  mouth  of  Kill  Van  Kull  soon  caught  my 
boat,  and  the  head-tide  was  changed  to  a  favor- 
able current  which  carried  me  in  its  strong  arms 
far  into  the  salt-water  strait,  and  I  reached  West 
New  Brighton,  along  the  high  banks  of  which  I 
found  my  haven  of  rest.  Against  the  sky  I 
traced  the  outlines  of  my  land-mark,  three  pop- 
lars, standing  sentinel-like  before  the  house  of 
the  gentleman  who  had  so  kindly  offered  me  his 
hospitality.  The  canoe  was  emptied  of  its  shift-' 
ing  liquid  ballast  and  carefully  sponged  dry. 
My  host  and  his  son  carried  it  into  the  main  hall 
of  the  mansion  and  placed  it  upon  the  floor, 
where  the  entire  household  gathered,  an  admir- 
ing group.  Proud,  indeed,  might  my  dainty 
crafl  have  been  of  the  appreciation  of  so  lovely 
a  company.  Her  master  fully  appreciated  the 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  85 

generous  board  of  his  kind  host,  and  in  present 
comfort  soon  forgot  past  trials  and  his  wet  pull 
across  the  upper  bay  of  New  York  harbor. 

My  work  for  the  next  day,  October  27th,  was 
the  navigation  of  the  interesting  strait  of  the  old 
Dutch  settlers  and  the  Raritan  River,  of  New 
Jersey,  as  far  as  New  Brunswick.  The  average 
wridth  of  Kill  Van  Kull  is  three-eighths  of  a  mile. 
From  its  entrance,  at  Constable's  Point,  to  the 
mouth  of  Newark  Bay,  which  enters  it  on  the 
Jersey  side,  it  is  three  miles,  and  nearly  two 
miles  across  the  bay  to  Elizabethport.  Bergen 
Point  is  on  the  east  and  Elizabethport  on  the  west 
entrance  of  the  bay,  while  on  Staten  Island,  New 
Brighton,  Factoryville,  and  North  Shore,  furnish 
homes  for  many  New  York  business  men. 

At  Elizabethport  the  strait  narrows  to  one 
eighth  of  a  mile,  and  as  the  mouth  of  the  Rah- 
way  is  approached  it  widens.  It  now  runs 
through  "marshes  for  most  of  the  way,  a  distance 
of  twelve  miles  to  Raritan  Bay,  which  is  an  arm 
of  the  lower  bay  of  New  York  harbor.  The 
strait,  from  Elizabethport  to  its  mouth,  is  called 
Arthur  Kill;  the  whole  distance  through  the 
Kills,  from  Constable's  Point  to  Raritan  Bay,  is 
about  seventeen  statute  miles.  At  the  mouth  of 
Arthur  Kill  the  Raritan  River  opens  to  the  bay, 
and  the  city  of  Perth  Amboy  rests  on  the  point 
of  high  land  between  the  river  and  the  strait. 

Roseville   and  Tottenville   are   on   the  Staten 


86  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

Island  shores  of  Arthur  Kill,  the  former  six 
miles,  the  latter  ten  miles  from  Elizabethport. 
The  tide  runs  swiftly  through  the  Kills.  Leav- 
ing Mr.  Campbell's  residence  at  nine  A.  M.,  with 
a  tide  in  my  favor  as  far  as  Newark  Bay,  I  soon 
had  the  tide  against  me  from  the  other  Kill  until 
I  passed  the  Rahway  River,  when  it  commenced 
to  ebb  towards  Raritan  Bay.  The  marshy  shores 
of  the  Kills  were  submerged  in  places  by  the 
high  tide,  but  their  monotony  was  relieved  by 
the  farms  upon  the  hills  back  of  the  flats. 

At  one  o'clock  my  canoe  rounded  the  heights 
upon  which  Perth  Amboy  is  perched,  with  its 
snug  cottages,  the  homes  of  many  oystermen 
whose  fleet  of  boats  was  anchored  in  front  of  the 
town.  Curious  yard-like  pens  constructed  of 
poles  rose  out  of  the  water,  in  which  boats  could 
find  shelter  from  the  rough  sea. 

The  entrance  to  the  Raritan  River  is  wide, 
and  above  its  mouth  it  is  crossed  by  a  long  rail- 
road bridge.  The  pull  up  the  crooked  river 
(sixteen  miles)  against  a  strong  ebb-tide,  through 
extensive  reedy  marshes,  was  uninteresting.  I 
came  upon  the  entrance  of  the  canal  which  con- 
nects the  rivers  Raritan  and  Delaware  after  six 
o'clock  P.  M.,  which  at  this  season  of  the  year 
was  after  dark.  Hiding  the  canoe  in  a  secure 
place  I  went  to  visit  an  old  friend,  Professor 
George  Cook,  of  the  New  Jersey  State  Geological 
Survey,  who  resides  at  New  Brunswick.  In  the 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  87 

morning  the  professor  kindly  assisted  me,  and 
we  climbed  the  high  bank  of  the  canal  with  the 
canoe  upon  our  shoulders,  putting  it  into  the 
water  below  the  first  two  locks.  I  now  com- 
menced an  unexciting  row  of  forty-two  miles  to 
Bordentown,  on  the  Delaware,  where  this  artifi- 
cial watercourse  ends. 

This  canal  is  much  travelled  by  steam  tugs 
towing  schooners  of  two  hundred  tons,  and  by 
barges  and  canal-boats  of  all  sizes  drawing  not 
above  seven  feet  and  a  half  of  water.  The 
boats  are  drawn  through  the  locks  by  stationary 
steam-engines,  the  use  of  which  is  discontinued 
when  the  business  becomes  slack;  then  the  boat- 
men use  their  mules  for  the  same  purpose.  To 
tow  an  average-sized  canal-boat,  loaded,  requires 
four  mules,  while  an  empty  one  is  easily  drawn 
by  two.  It  proved  most  expeditious  as  well  as 
convenient  not  to  trouble  the  lock-master  to  open 
the  gates,  but  to  secure  his  assistance  in  carrying 
the  canoe  along  the  tow-path  to  the  end  of  the 
lock,  which  service  occupied  less  than  five  min- 
utes. In  this  way  the  canoe  was  carried  around 
seven  locks  the  first  day,  and  when  dusk  ap- 
proached she  was  sheltered  beside  a  paper  shell 
in  the  boat-house  of  Princeton  College  Club, 
which  is  located  on  the  banks  of  the  canal  about 
one  mile  and  a  half  from  the  city  of  Princeton. 

In  this  narrow  watercourse  these  indefatiga- 
ble collegians,  under  great  disadvantages,  drill 


88  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

their  crews  for  the  annual  intercollegiate  struggle 
for  championship.  One  Noah  Reed  provided 
entertainment  for  man  and  beast  at  his  country 
inn  half  a  mile  from  the  boat-house,  and  thither 
I  repaired  for  the  night. 

This  day's  row  of  twenty-six  miles  and  a 
half  had  been  through  a  hilly  country,  abound- 
ing in  rich  farm  lands  which  were  well  culti- 
vated. The  next  morning  an  officer  of  the 
Princeton  Bank  awaited  my  coming  on  the  banks 
of  the  sluggish  canal.  He  had  taken  an  early 
walk  from  the  town  to  see  the  canoe.  At  Bak- 
er's Basin  the  bridge-tender,  a  one-legged  man, 
pressed  me  to  tarry  till  he  could  summon  the 
Methodist  minister,  who  had  charged  him  to  no- 
tify him  of  the  approach  of  a  paper  canoe. 

Through  all  my  boat  journeys  I  have  remarked 
that  professional  men  take  more  interest  in  canoe 
journeys  than  professional  oarsmen;  and  nearly 
all  the  canoeists  of  my  acquaintance  are  minis- 
ters of  the  gospel.  It  is  an  innocent  way  of  ob- 
taining relaxation;  and  opportunities  thus  offered 
the  weary  clergyman  of  studying  nature  in  her 
ever-changing  but  always  restful  moods,  must 
indeed  be  grateful  after  being  for  months  in  daily 
contact  with  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil. 
The  tendency  of  the  present  age  to  liberal  ideas 
permits  clergymen  in  large  towns  and  cities  to 
drive  fast  horses,  and  spend  an  hour  of  each  da}' 
at  a  harmless  game  of  billiards,  without  giving 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  89 

rise  to  remarks  from  his  oiun  congregation,  but 
let  the  overworked  rector  of  a  country  village 
seek  in  his  friendly  canoe  that  relief  which  nature 
offers  to  the  tired  brain,  let  him  go  into  the  wil- 
derness and  live  close  to  his  Creator  by  studying 
his  works,  and  a  whole  community  vex  him  on 
his  return  with  "  the  appearance  of  the  thing." 
These  self-constituted  critics,  who  are  generally 
ignorant  of  the  laws  which  God  has  made  to  se- 
cure health  and  give  contentment  to  his  creatures, 
would  poison  the  sick  man's  body  with  drugs  and 
nostrums  when  he  might  have  the  delightful  and 
generally  successful  services  of  Dr.  Camp  Cure 
without  the  after  dose  of  a  bill.  These  hard- 
worked  and  miserably  paid  country  clergymen, 
who  are  rarely,  nowadays,  treated  as  the  head 
of  the  congregation  or  the  shepherd  of  the  flock 
they  are  supposed  to  lead,  but  rather  as  victims 
of  the  whims  of  influential  members  of  the 
church,  tell  me  that  to  own  a  canoe  is  indeed  a 
cross,  and  that  if  they  spend  a  vacation  in  the 
grand  old  forests  of  the  Adirondacks,  the  breth- 
ren are  sorely  exercised  over  the  time  wasted  in 
such  unusual  and  unministerial  conduct. 

Everywhere  along  the  route  the  peculiar  char- 
acter of  the  paper  canoe  attracted  many  remarks 
from  the  bystanders.  The  first  impression  given 
was  that  I  had  engaged  in  this  rowing  enterprise 
under  the  stimulus  of  a  bet;  and  when  the  cu- 
rious were  informed  that  it  was  a  voyage  of 


90  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

study,  the  next  question  was,  "  How  much  are  you 
going  to  make  out  of  it?"  Upon  learning  that 
there  was  neither  a  bet  nor  money  in  it,  a  shade 
of  disappointment  and  incredulity  rested  upon 
the  features  of  the  bystanders,  and  the  canoeist 
was  often  rated  as  a  "  blockhead  "  for  risking  his 
life  without  being  paid  for  it. 

At  Trenton  the  canal  passes  through  the  city, 
and  here  it  was  necessary  to  carry  the  boat 
around  two  locks.  At  noon  the  canoe  ended 
her  voyage  of  forty-two  miles  by  reaching  the 
last  lock,  on  the  Delaware  River,  at  Bordentown, 
New  Jersey,  wrhere  friendly  arms  received  the 
Maria  Theresa  and  placed  her  on  the  trestles 
which  had  supported  her  sister  craft,  the  Mayeta, 
in  the  shop  of  the  builder,  Mr.  J.  S.  Lamson, 
situated  under  the  high  cliffs  along  the  crests  of 
which  an  ex-king  of  Spain,  in  times  gone  by, 
was  wont  to  walk  and  sadly  ponder  on  his  exile 
from  la  belle  France. 

The  Rev.  John  H.  Brakeley,  proprietor  as  well 
as  principal  of  the  Bordentown  Female  Sem- 
inary, took  me  to  his  ancient  mansion,  where 
Thomas  Paine,  of  old  Revolutionary  war  times, 
had  lodged.  Not  the  least  attraction  in  the 
home  of  my  friend  was  the  group  of  fifty  young 
ladies,  who  were  kind  enough  to  gather  upon  a 
high  bluff  when  I  left  the  town,  and  wave  a 
graceful  farewell  to  the  paper  canoe  as  she  en- 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  9! 

tered  the  tidal  current  of  the  river  Delaware  en 
route  for  the  Quaker  city. 

During  my  short  stay  in  Bordentown  Mr. 
Isaac  Gabel  kindly  acted  as  my  guide?  and  we 
explored  the  Bonaparte  Park,  which  is  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  town.  The  grounds  are  beauti- 
fully laid  out.  Some  of  the  old  houses  of  the 
ex-king's  friends  and  attendants  still  remain  in  a 
fair  state  of  preservation.  The  elegant  residence 
of  Joseph  Bonaparte,  or  the  Count  de  Surveil- 
liers,  which  was  always  open  to  American  vis- 
itors of  all  classes,  was  torn  down  by  Mr.  Henry 
Beckett,  an  Englishman  in  the  diplomatic  ser- 
vice of  the  British  government,  who  purchased 
this  property  some  years  after  the  Count  returned 
to  Europe,  and  erected  a  more  elaborate  man- 
sion near  the  old  site.  The  old  citizens  of  Bor- 
dentown hold  in  grateful  remembrance  the  fa- 
vors showered  upon  them  by  Joseph  Bonaparte 
and  his  family,  who  seem  to  have  lived  a  dem- 
ocratic life  in  the  grand  old  park.  The  Count 
returned  to  France  in  ^838,  and  never  visited 
the  United  States  again.  New  Jersey  had  wel- 
comed the  exiled  monarch,  and  had  given  him 
certain  legal  privileges  in  property  rights  which 
New  York  had  refused  him;  so  he  settled  upon 
the  lovely  shores  of  the  fair  Delaware,  and  lav- 
ished his  wealth  upon  the  people  of  the  state 
which  had  so  kindly  received  him.  The  citizens 
of  neighboring  states  becoming  somewhat  jeal- 


92  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

ous  of  the  good  luck  that  had  befallen  New  Jer- 
sey in  her  capture  of  the  Spanish  king,  applied 
to  the  state  the  cognomen  of  "  New  Spain," 
and  called  the  inhabitants  thereof  "  Spaniards." 

The  Delaware  River,  the  Makeriskitton  of  the 
savage,  upon  whose  noble  waters  my  paper 
canoe  was  now  to  carry  me  southward,  has  its 
sources  in  the  western  declivity  of  the  Catskill 
Mountains,  in  the  state  of  New  York.  It  is  fed 
by  two  tributary  streams,  the  Oquago  (or  Co- 
quago)  and  the  Popacton,  which  unite  their 
waters  at  the  boundary  line  of  Pennsylvania,  at 
the  northeast  end  of  the  state,  from  which  it 
flows  southward  seventy  miles,  separating  the 
Empire  and  Keystone  states.  When  near  Port 
Jervis,  which  town  is  connected  with  Rondout, 
on  the  Hudson  River,  by  the  Hudson  and  Del- 
aware Canal,  the  Delaware  turns  sharply  to  the 
southwest,  and  becomes  the  boundary  line  be- 
tween the  states  of  New  Jersey  and  Pennsyl- 
vania. Below  Easton  the  river  again  takes  a 
southeasterly  course,  and  flowing  past  Trenton, 
Bristol,  Bordentown,  Burlington,  Philadelphia, 
Camden,  Newcastle,  and  Delaware  City,  empties 
its  waters  into  Delaware  Bay  about  forty  miles 
below  Philadelphia. 

This  river  has  about  the  same  length  as  the 
Hudson  —  three  hundred  miles.  The  tide 
reaches  one  hundred  and  thirty-two  miles  from 
the  sea  at  Cape  May  and  Cape  Henlopen.  Phil- 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  93 

adelphia  is  the  head  of  navigation  for  vessels  of 
the  heaviest  tonnage;  Trenton  for  light-draught 
steamboats.  At  Bordentown  the  river  is  less 
than  half  a  mile  wide;  at  Philadelphia  it  is 
three-fourths  of  a  mile  in  width;  while  at  Del- 
aware City  it  widens  to  two  miles  and  a  half. 
Delaware  Bay  is  twenty-six  miles  across  in  the 
widest  part,  which  is  some  miles  within  the 
entrance  of  the  Capes. 

October  3ist  was  cool  and  gusty.  The  river 
route  to  Philadelphia  is  twenty-nine  statute  miles. 
The  passage  was  made  against  a  strong  head-wind, 
with  swashy  waves,  which  made  me  again  regret 
that  I  did  not  have  my  canoe-decking  made  at 
Troy,  instead  of  at  Philadelphia.  The  highly- 
cultivated  farms  and  beautiful  country-seats  along 
both  the  Pennsylvania  and  New  Jersey  sides 
of  the  river  spoke  highly  of  the  rich  character 
of  the  soil  and  the  thrift  of  the  inhabitants. 
These  river  counties  of  two  states  may  be  called 
a  land  of  plenty,  blessed  with  bountiful  har- 
vests. 

Quaker  industry  and  wise  economy  in  man- 
aging the  agricultural  affairs  of  this  section  in 
the  early  epochs  of  our  country's  settlement 
have  borne  good  fruit.  All  praise  to  the  mem- 
ory of  William  Penn  of  Pennsylvania  and  his 
worthy  descendants.  The  old  towns  of  Bris- 
tol .  on  the  right,  and  Burlington  on  the  left 


94  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

bank,  embowered  in  vernal  shades,  have  a  most 
comfortable  and  home-like  appearance. 

At  five  o'clock  P.  M.  I  arrived  at  the  city  pier 
opposite  the  warehouse  of  Messrs.  C.  P.  Knight 
&  Brother,  No.  114  South  Delaware  Avenue, 
where,  after  a  struggle  with  wind  and  wave  for 
eight  hours,  the  canoe  was  landed  and  deposited 
with  the  above  firm,  the  gentlemen  of  which 
kindly  offered  to  care  for  it  while  I  tarried  in 
the  "  City  of  Brotherly  Love." 

Among  the  many  interesting  spots  hallowed 
by  memories  of  the  past  in  which  Philadelphia 
abounds,  and  which  are  rarely  sought  out  by 
visitors,  two  especially  claim  the  attention  of 
the  naturalist.  One  is  the  old  home  of  Wil- 
liam Bartram,  on  the  banks  of  the  Schuylkill  at 
Grey's  Ferry;  the  other,  the  grave  of  Alexander 
Wilson,  friends  and  co-laborers  in  nature's  ex- 
tended field;  —  the  first  a  botanist,  the  second  the 
father  of  American  ornithology. 

William  Bartram,  son  of  the  John  Bartram 
who  was  the  founder  of  the  Botanic  Garden  on 
the  west  bank  of  the  Schuylkill,  was  born  at 
that  interesting  spot  in  1739.  All  botanists  are 
familiar  with  the  results  of  his  patient  labors  and 
his  pioneer  travels  in  those  early  days,  through 
the  wilderness  of  what  now  constitutes  the 
southeastern  states.  One  who  visited  him  at  his 
home  says:  "Arrived  at  the  botanist's  garden, 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  95 

we  approached  an  old  man  who,  with  a  rake  in 
his  hand,  was  breaking  the  clods  of  earth  in  a 
tulip-bed.  His  hat  was  old,  and  flapped  over 
his  face;  his  coarse  shirt  was  seen  near  his  neck, 
as  he  wore  no  cravat  nor  kerchief;  his  waistcoat 
and  breeches  were  both  of  leather,  and  his  shoes 
were  tied  with  leather  strings.  We  approached 
and  accosted  him.  He  ceased  his  work,  and 
entered  into  conversation  with  the  ease  and 
politeness  of  nature's  nobleman.  His  coun- 
tenance was  expressive  of  benignity  and  happi- 
ness. This  was  the  botanist,  traveller  and  phi- 
losopher we  had  come  to  see." 

William  Bartram  gave  important  assistance 
and  encouragement  to  the  friendless  Scotch  ped- 
agogue, Alexander  Wilson,  while  the  latter  was 
preparing  his  American  Ornithology  for  the 
press.  This  industrious  and  peaceable  botanist 
died  within  the  walls  of  his  dearly-loved  home 
a  few  minutes  after  he  had  penned  a  description 
of  a  plant.  He  died  in  1823,  in  the  eighty-fifth 
year  of  his  age.  The  old  house  of  John  and 
William  Bartram  remains  nearly  the  same  as 
when  tlie  last  Bartram  died,  but  the  grounds 
have  been  occupied  and  improved  by  the  present 
proprietor,  whose  fine  mansion  is  near  the  old 
residence  of  the  two  botanists. 

Without  ample  funds  to  enable  him  to  carry 
out  his  bold  design,  Alexander  Wilson  labored 


9^  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

and  suffered  in  body  and  mind  for  several  years, 
until  his  patient  and  persistent  efforts  achieved 
the  success  they  so  richly  merited.  All  but  the 
last  volume  of  his  American  Ornithology  were 
completed  when  the  overworked  naturalist  died. 

The  old  Swedes'  Church  is  the  most  ancient 
religious  edifice  in  Philadelphia,  and  is  located 
near  the  wharves  in  the  vicinity  of  Christian  and 
Swanson  streets,  in  the  old  district  of  South- 
wark.  The  Swedes  had  settlements  on  the  Del- 
aware before  Penn  visited  America.  They  built 
a  wooden  edifice  for  worship  in  1677,  on  the 
spot  where  the  brick  "  Swedes'  Church "  now 
stands,  and  which  was  erected  in  1700.  Thread- 
ing narrow  streets,  with  the  stenographic  re- 
porter of  the  courts,  Mr.  R.  A.  West,  for  my 
guide,  we  came  into  a  quiet  locality  where  the 
ancient  landmark  reared  its  steeple,  like  the  fin- 
ger of  faith  pointing  heavenward.  Few  indeed 
must  be  the  fashionable  Christians  who  worship 
under  its  unpretentious  roof,  but  there  is  an  air 
of  antiquity  surrounding  it  which  interests  every 
visitor  who  enters  its  venerable  doorway. 

The  church-yard  is  very  contracted  in  area, 
yet  there  is  room  for  trees  to  grow  within  its 
sacred  precincts,  and  birds  sometimes  rest  there 
while  pursuing  their  flight  from  the  Schuylkill 
to  the  Delaware.  Among  the  crowded  graves 
is  a  square  brick  structure,  covered  with  an  hor- 
izontal slab  of  white  marble,  upon  which  I  read: 


VOYAGE  OF  THE.  PAPER  CANOE.      97 

"  THIS  MONUMENT  COVERS  THE  REMAINS  OF 

ALEXANDER    WILSON, 

AUTHOR  OF  THE  AMERICAN  ORNITHOLOGY. 

HE  WAS  BORN  IN  RENFREWSHIRE,  SCOTLAND,  ON  THE  6  JULY,  1766; 

EMIGRATED  TO  THE  UNITED  STATES  IN  THE  YEAR  1794  ; 

AND  DIED  IN  PHILADELPHIA,  OF  THE  DYSENTERY, 

ON   THE    23   AUGUST,   1 813,  AGED  47. 

Ingenio  slat  sine  morte  dccus," 

Philadelphia  has  been  called  the  "  city  of 
homes,"  and  well  does  she  merit  that  comforta- 
bly sounding  title,  for  it  is  not  a  misnomer. 
Unlike  some  other  large  American  cities,  the 
artisan  and  laborer  can  here  own  a  home  by 
becoming  a  member  of  a  building  association 
and  paying  the  moderate  periodical  dues.  Miles 
upon  miles  of  these  cosy  little  houses,  of  five  or 
six  rooms  each,  may  be  found,  the  inmates  of 
which  are  a  good  and  useful  class  of  citizens, 
adding  strength  to  the  city's  discipline  and  gov- 
ernment. 

The  grand  park  of  three  thousand  acres,  one 
of,  if  not  the  largest  in  the  world,  is  near  at 
hand,  where  the  poor  as  well  as  the  rich  can 
resort  at  pleasure.  I  took  leave  of  the  beautiful 
and  well  laid-out  city  with  a  pang  of  regret  not 
usual  with  canoeists,  who  find  it  best  for  their 
comfort  and  peace  of  mind  to  keep  with  their 
dainty  crafts  away  from  the  heterogeneous  and 
not  over-civil  population  which  gathers  along 
the  water-fronts  of  a  port. 

7 


98  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

PHILADELPHIA   TO   CAPE    HENLOPEN. 

DESCENT  OF  DELAWARE  RIVER.  —  MY  FIRST  CAMP.  —  BOMBAY 
HOOK.  —  MURDERKILL  CREEK.  —  A  STORM  IN  DELAWARE  BAY. — 
CAPSIZING  OF  THE  CANOE.  —  A  SWIM  FOR  LIFE.  —  THE  PER- 
SIMMON GROVE.  —  WILLOW  GROVE  INN.  —  THE  LIGHTS  OF 
CAPES  MAY  AND  HENLOPEN. 

MONDAY,  November  9,  was  a  cold,  wet 
day.  Mr.  Knight  and  the  old,  enthusi- 
astic gunsmith-naturalist  of  the  city,  Mr.  John 
Krider,  assisted  me  to  embark  in  my  now 
decked,  provisioned,  and  loaded  canoe.  The 
stock  of  condensed  food  would  easily  last  me  a 
month,  while  the  blankets  and  other  parts  of  the 
outfit  were  good  for  the  hard  usage  of  four  or 
five  months.  My  friends  shouted  adieu  as  the 
little  craft  shot  out  from  the  pier  and  rapidly 
descended  the  river  with  the  strong  ebb-tide 
which  for  two  hours  was  in  her  favor.  The 
anchorage  of  the  iron  Monitor  fleet  at  League 
Island  was  soon  passed,  and  the  great  city  sank 
into  the  gloom  of  its  smoke  and  the  clpuds  of 
rainy  mist  which  enveloped  it. 

This  pull  was  an  exceedingly  dreary  one.    The 
storms  of  winter  were  at  hand,  and  even  along 


send  Inlet       Soutf  of  Paper.Canot 

MARIA    THERESA 
From  NevrYbrk  City  toLcwes.Del. 
Via  Arthur  KM.  Del.  <6  Rarftan.  Canal 

Followed 


Copyright.  2878.  by  IK  i  Sfcpard 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  99 

the  watercourses  between  Philadelphia  and  Nor- 
folk, Virginia,  thin  ice  would  soon  be  forming  in 
the  shallow  coves  and  creeks.  It  would  be 
necessary  to  exert  all  my  energies  to  get  south 
of  Hatteras,  which  is  located  on  the  North  Car- 
olina coast  in  a  region  of  storms  and  local  dis- 
turbances. The  canoe,  though  heavily  laden? 
behaved  well.  I  now  enjoyed  the  advantages 
resulting  from  the  possession  of  the  new  canvas 
deck-cover,  which,  being  fastened  by  buttons 
along  each  gunwale  of  the  canoe,  securely  cov- 
ered the  boat,  so  that  the  occasional  swash  sent 
aboard  by  wicked  tug-boats  and  large  schooners 
did  not  annoy  me  or  wet  my  precious  cargo. 

By  two  o'clock  p.  M.  the  rain  and  wind  caused 
me  to  seek  shelter  at  Mr.  J.  C.  Beach's  cottage, 
at  Markus  Hook,  some  twenty  miles  below 
Philadelphia,  and  on  the  same  side  of  the  river. 
While  Mr.  Beach  was  varnishing  the  little  craft, 
crowds  of  people  came  to  feel  of  the  canoe,  giv- 
ing it  the  usual  punching  with  their  finger-nails, 
"  to  see  if  it  were  truly  paper."  A  young  Meth- 
odist minister  with  his  pretty  wife  came  also  to 
satisfy  their  curiosity  on  the  -paper  question,  but 
the  dominie  offered  me  not  a  word  of  encourage- 
ment in  my  undertaking.  He  shook  his  head 
and  whispered  to  his  wife:  "A  wild,  wild  enter- 
prise indeed."  Markus  Hook  derived  its  name 
from  Markee,  an  Indian  chief,  who  sold  it  to  the 
civilized  white  man  for  four  barrels  of  whiskey. 


100  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

The  next  morning,  in  a  dense  fog,  I  followed 
the  shores  of  the  river,  crossing  the  Pennsylvania 
and  Delaware  boundary  line  half  a  mile  below 
the  "Hook,"  and  entered  Delaware,  the  little  state 
of  three  counties.  Thirty-five  miles  below,  the 
water  becomes  salt.  Reaching  New  Castle, 
which  contained  half  its  present  number  of 
inhabitants  before  Philadelphia  was  founded,  I 
pulled  across  to  the  New  Jersey  side  of  the  river 
and  skirted  the  marshy  shore  past  the  little  Pea 
Patch  Island,  upon  which  rises  in  sullen  dreari- 
ness Fort  Delaware.  West  of  the  island  is 
Delaware  City,  where  the  Chesapeake  and  Del- 
aware Canal,  fourteen  miles  in  length,  has  one 
of  its  termini,  the  other  being  on  a  river  which 
empties  into  Chesapeake  Bay.  Philadelphia  and 
Baltimore  steamboat  lines  utilize  this  canal  in 
the  passage  of  their  boats  from  one  city  to  the 
other. 

After  crossing  Salem  Cove,  and  passing  its 
southern  point,  Elsinborough,  five  miles  and  a 
half  below  Fort  Delaware,  the  inhospitable 
marshes  became  wide  and  desolate,  warning  me 
to  secure  a  timely  shelter  for  the  night.  Nearly 
two  miles  below  Point  Elsinborough  the  high 
reeds  were  divided  by  a  little  creek,  into  which  I 
ran  my  canoe,  for  upon  the  muddy  bank  could  be 
seen  a  deserted,  doorless  fish-cabin,  into  which  I 
moved  my  blankets  and  provisions,  after  cutting 
with  my  pocket-knife  an  ample  supply  of  dry 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  IOI 

reeds  for  a  bed.  Drift-wood,  which  a  friendly 
tide  had  deposited  around  the  shanty,  furnished 
the  material  for  my  fire,  which  lighted  up  the 
dismal  hovel  most  cheerfully.  And  thus  I  kept 
house  in  a  comfortable  manner  till  morning, 
being  well  satisfied  with  the  progress  I  had 
made  that  day  in  traversing  the  shores  of  three 
states.  The  booming  of  the  guns  of  wild-fowl 
shooters  out  upon  the  water  roused  me  before 
dawn,  and  I  had  ample  time  before  the  sun  arose 
to  prepare  breakfast  from  the  remnant  of  canned 
ox-tail  soup  left  over  from  last  night's  supper. 

I  was  now  in  Delaware  Bay,  which  was  assum- 
ing noble  proportions.  From  my  camp  I  crossed 
to  the  west  shore  below  Reedy  Island,  and,  filling 
my  water-bottles  at  a  farm-house,  kept  upon  that 
shore  all  day.  The  wind  arose,  stirring  up  a 
rough  sea  as  I  approached  Bombay  Hook,  where 
the  bay  is  eight  miles  wide.  I  tried  to  land  upon 
the  salt  marshes,  over  the  edges  of  which  the 
long,  low  seas  were  breaking,  but  failed  in  sev- 
eral attempts.  At  last  roller  after  roller,  follow- 
ing in  quick  succession,  carried  the  little  craft  on 
their  crests  to  the  land,  and  packed  her  in  a 
^thicket  of  high  reeds. 

I  quickly  disembarked,  believing  it  useless  to 
attempt  to  go  further  that  day.  About  an  eighth 
of  a  mile  from  the  water,  rising  out  of  the  salt 
grass  and  reeds,  was  a  little  mound,  covered  by 
trees  and  bushes,  into  which  I  conveyed  my 


102  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

cargo  by  the  back-load,  and  then  easily  drew  the 
light  canoe  over  the  level  marsh  to  the  camp. 
A  bed  of  reeds  was  soon  cut,  into  which  the 
canoe  was  settled  to  prevent  her  from  being 
strained  by  the  occupant  at  night,  for  I  was  de- 
termined to  test  the  strength  of  the  boat  as  sleep- 
ing-quarters. Canoes  built  for  one  person  are 
generally  too  light  for  such  occupancy  when  out 
of  water.  The  tall  fringe  of  reeds  which  encir- 
cled the  boat  formed  an  excellent  substitute  for 
chamber  walls,  giving  me  all  the  starry  blue 
heavens  for  a  ceiling,  and  most  effectually  screen- 
ing me  from  the  strong  wind  which  was  blowing. 
As  it  was  early  when  the  boat  was  driven  ashore, 
I  had  time  to  wander  down  to  the  brook,  which 
was  a  mile  distant,  and  replenish  my  scanty  stock 
of  water. 

With  the  canvas  deck-cover  and  rubber  blan- 
ket to  keep  off  the  heavy  dews,  the  first  night 
passed  in  such  contracted  lodgings  was  endurable, 
if  not  wholly  convenient  and  agreeable.  The 
river  mists  were  not  dispelled  the  next  day  until 
nine  o'clock,  when  I  quitted  my  warm  nest  in 
the  reeds  and  rowed  down  the  bay,  which  seemed 
to  grow  broader  as  I  advanced.  The  bay  was^ 
still  bordered  by  extensive  marshes,  with  here 
and  there  the  habitation  of  man  located  upon 
some  slight  elevation  of  the  surface.  Having 
rowed  twenty-six  miles,  and  being  off  the  mouth 
of  Murderkill  Creek,  a  squall  struck  the  canoe  and 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  IOJ 

forced  it  on  to  an  oyster  reef,  upon  the  sharp 
shells  of  which  she  was  rocked  for  several  min- 
utes by  the  shallow  breakers.  Fearing  that  the 
paper  shell  was  badly  cut,  though  it  was  still 
early  in  the  afternoon,  I  ascended  the  creek  of 
ominous  name  and  associations  to  the  landing  of 
an  inn  kept  by  Jacob  Lavey,  where  I  expected  to 
overhaul  my  injured  craft.  To  my  surprise  and 
great  relief  of  mind  there  were  found  only  a  few 
superficial  scratches  upon  the  horn-like  shel- 
lacked surface  of  the  paper  shell.  To  apply 
shellac  with  a  heated  iron  to  the  wounds  made 
by  the  oyster-shells  was  the  work  of  a  few  min- 
utes, and  my  craft  was  as  sound  as  ever.  The 
gunners  resort,  "  Bower's  Beach  Hotel,"  fur- 
nished an  excellent  supper  of  oyster  fritters,  pan- 
fish,  and  fried  pork-scrapple.  Mine  host,  before 
a  blazing  wood  fire,  told  me  of  the  origin  of  the 
name  of  Murderkill  Creek. 

"  In  the  early  settlement  of  the  country,"  be- 
gan the  innkeeper,  "  the  white  settlers  did  all 
they  could  to  civilize  the  Indians,  but  the  cussed 
savages  wouldn't  take  to  it  kindly,  but  worried 
the  life  out  of  the  new-comers.  At  last  a  great 
landed  proprietor,  who  held  a  big  grant  of  land 
in  these  parts,  thought  he'd  settle  the  troubles. 
So  he  planted  a  brass  cannon  near  the  creek, 
and  invited  all  the  Indians  of  the  neighborhood 

O 

to  come  and  hear  the  white  man's  Great  Spirit 
talk.  The  crafty  man  got  the  savages  before  the 


104     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

mouth  of  the  cannon,  and  said,  'Now  look  into 
the  hole  there,  for  it  is  the  mouth  of  the  white 
man's  Great  Spirit,  which  will  soon  speak  in  tones 
of  thunder.'  The  fellow  then  touched  off  the 
gun,  and  knocked  half  the  devils  into  splinters. 
The  others  were  so  skeerd  at  the  big  voice  they 
had  heard  that  they  were  afraid  to  move,  and 
were  soon  all  killed  by  one  charge  after  another 
from  the  cannon:  so  the  creek  has  been  called 
Murderkill  ever  since." 

I  afterwards  discovered  that  there  were  other 
places  on  the  coast  which  had  the  same  legend 
as  the  one  told  me  by  the  innkeeper.  Holders 
of  small  farms  lived  in  the  vicinity  of  this  tavern, 
but  the  post-office  was  at  Frederica,  five  miles 
inland.  Embarking  the  next  day,  I  felt  sure  of 
ending  my  cruise  on  Delaware  Bay  before  night, 
as  the  quiet  morning  exhibited  no  signs  of  rising 
winds.  The  little  pilot  town  of  Lewes,  near 
Cape  Delaware,  and  behind  the  Breakwater,  is  a 
port  of  refuge  for  storm-bound  vessels.  From 
this  village  I  expected  to  make  a  portage  of  six 
miles  to  Love  Creek,  a  tributary  of  Rehoboth 
Sound.  The  frosty  nights  were  now  exerting  a 
sanitary  influence  over  the  malarial  districts 
which  I  had  entered,  and  the  unacclimated  ca- 
noeist of  northern  birth  could  safely  pursue  his 
journey,  and  sleep  at  night  in  the  swamps  along 
the  fresh-water  streams  if  protected  from  the 
dews  by  a  rubber  or  canvas  covering.  My  hopes 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  105 

of  reaching  the  open  sea  that  night  were  to  be 
drowned,  and  in  cold  water  too;  for  that  day, 
which  opened  so  calmly  and  with  such  smiling 
promises,  was  destined  to  prove  a  season  of  trial, 
and  before  its  evening  shadows  closed  around 
me,  to  witness  a  severe  struggle  for  life  in  the 
cold  waters  of  Delaware  Bay. 

An  hour  after  leaving  Murderkill  Creek  the 
wind  came  from  the  north  in  strong  squalls. 
My  little  boat  taking  the  blasts  on  her  quarter, 
kept  herself  free  of  the  swashy  seas  hour  after 
hour.  I  kept  as  close  to  the  sandy  beach  of  the 
great  marshes  as  possible,  so  as  to  be  near  the 
land  in  case  an  accident  should  happen.  Mis- 
pillion  Creek  and  a  light-house  on  the  north  of 
its  mouth  were  passed,  when  the  wind  and  seas 
struck  my  boat  on  the  port  beam,  and  continually 
crowded  her  ashore.  The  water  breaking  on 
the  hard,  sandy  beach  of  the  marshy  coast  made 
it  too  much  of  a  risk  to  attempt  a  landing,  as  the 
canoe  would  be  smothered  in  the  swashy  seas  if 
her  headway  was  checked  for  a  moment.  Amid- 
ships the  canoe  was  only  a  few  inches  out  of 
water,  but  her  great  sheer,  full  bow,  and  smooth- 
ness of  hull,  with  watchful  management,  kept  her 
from  swamping.  I  had  struggled  along  for 
fourteen  miles  since  morning,  and  was  fatigued 
by  the  strain  consequent  upon  the  continued  ma- 
noeuvring of  my  boat  through  the  rough  waves. 
I  reached  a  point  on  Slaughter  Beach,  where  the 


106  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

bay  has  a  width  of  nearly  nineteen  miles,  when 
the  tempest  rose  to  such  a  pitch  that  the  great 
raging  seas  threatened  every  moment  to  wash 
over  my  canoe,  and  to  force  me  by  their  violence 
close  into  the  beach.  To  my  alarm,  as  the  boat 
rose  and  fell  on  the  waves,  the  heads  of  sharp- 
pointed  stakes  appeared  and  disappeared  in  the 
broken  waters.  They  were  the  stakes  of  fisher- 
men to  which  they  attach  their  nets  in  the  season 
of  trout-fishing.  The  danger  of  being  impaled 
on  one  of  these  forced  me  off  shore  again. 

There  was  no  undertow;  the  seas  being  driven 
over  shoals  were  irregular  and  broken.  At  last  my 
sea  came.  It  rolled  up  without  a  crest,  square 
and  formidable.  I  could  not  calculate  where  it 
would  break,  but  I  pulled  for  life  away  from  it 
towards  the  beach  upon  which  the  sea  was 
breaking  with  deafening  sound.  It  was  only  for 
a  moment  that  I  beheld  the  great  brown  wave, 
which  bore  with  it  the  mud  of  the  shoal,  bearing 

7  O 

down  upon  me;  for  the  next,  it  broke  astern, 
sweeping  completely  over  the  canoe  from  stern 
to  stem,  filling  it  through  the  opening  of  the 
canvas  round  my  body.  Then  for  a  while  the 
watery  area  was  almost  smooth,  so  completely 
had  the  great  wave  levelled  it.  The  canoe  be- 
ing water-logged,  settled  below  the  surface, 
the  high  points  of  the  ends  occasionally  emer- 
ging from  the  water.  Other  heavy  seas  followed 
the  first,  one  of  which  striking  me  as  high  as  my 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  107 

head  and  shoulders,  turned  both  the  canoe  and 
canoeist  upside-down. 

Kicking  myself  free  of  the  canvas  deck,  I 
struck  out  from  under  the  shell,  and  quickly 
rose  to  the  surface.  It  was  then  that  the  words 
of  an  author  of  a  European  Canoe  Manual  came 
to  my  mind:  "  When  you  capsize,  first  right  the 
canoe  and  get  astride  it  over  one  end,  keeping 
your  legs  in  the  water;  when  you  have  crawled 
to  the  well  or  cockpit,  bale  out  the  boat  with 
your  hat."  Comforting  as  these  instructions 
from  an  experienced  canoe  traveller  seemed 
when  reading  them  in  my  hermitage  ashore,  the 
present  application  of  them  (so  important  a 
principle  in  Captain  Jack  Bunsby's  log  of  life) 
was  in  this  emergency  an  impossibility;  for  my 
hat  had  disappeared  with  the  seat-cushion  and 
one  iron  outrigger,  while  the  oars  were  floating 
to  leeward  with  the  canoe. 

The  boat  having  turned  keel  up,  her  great 
sheer  would  have  righted  her  had  it  not  been  for 
the  cargo,  which  settled  itself  on  the  canvas 
deck-cloth,  and  ballasted  the  craft  in  that  posi- 
tion. So  smooth  were  her  polished  sides  that  it 
was  impossible  to  hold  on  to  her,  for  she  rolled 
about  like  a  slippery  porpoise  in  a  tideway. 
Having  tested  and  proved  futile  the  kind  sug- 
gestions of  writers  on  marine  disasters,  and  feel- 
ing very  stiff  in  the  icy  water,  I  struck  out  in  an 
almost  exhausted  condition  for  the  shore.  Now 


108  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

a  new  experience  taught  me  an  interesting  les- 
son. The  seas  rolled  over  my  head  and  shoul- 
ders in  such  rapid  succession,  that  I  found  I 
could  not  get  my  head  above  water  to  breathe, 
while  the  sharp  sand  kept  in  suspension  by  the 
agitated  water  scratched  my  face,  and  filled  my 
eyes,  nostrils,  and  ears.  While  I  felt  this  press- 
ing down  and  burying  tendency  of  the  seas,  as 
they  broke  upon  my  head  and  shoulders,  I  un- 
derstood the  reason  why  so  many  good  swim- 
mers are  drowned  in  attempting  to  reach  the 
shore  from  a  wreck  on  a  shoal,  when  the  wind, 
though  blowing  heavily,  is  in  the  victim's  favor. 
The  land  was  not  over  an  eighth  of  a  mile  away, 
and  from  it  came  the  sullen  roar  of  the  breakers, 
pounding  their  heavy  weight  upon  the  sandy 
shingle.  As  its  booming  thunders  or  its  angry, 
swashing  sound  increased,  I  knew  I  was  rapidly 
nearing  it,  but,  blinded  by  the  boiling  waters,  I 
could  see  nothing. 

At  such  a  moment  do  not  stop  to  make  vows 
as  to  how  you  will  treat  your  neighbor  in  future 
if  once  safely  landed,  but  strike  out,  fight  as  you 
never  fought  before,  swallowing  as  little  water 
as  possible,  and  never  relaxing  an  energy  or 
yielding  a  hope.  The  water  shoaled;  my  feet 
felt  the  bottom,  and  I  stood  up,  but  a  roller  laid 
me  flat  on  my  face.  Up  again  and  down  again, 
swimming  and  crawling,  I  emerged  from  the 
sea,  bearing,  I  fear,  a  closer  resemblance  to  Jo- 


PP-, 

w 
a! 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  109 

nah  (being  at  last  pitched  on  shore)  than  to 
Cabnel's  Venus,  who  was  borne  gracefully  upon 
the  rosy  crests  of  the  sky-reflecting  waves  to 
the  soft  bed  of  sparkling  foam  awaiting  her. 

Wearily  dragging  myself  up  the  hard  shingle, 
I  stood  and  contemplated  the  little  streams  of 
water  pouring  from  my  woollen  clothes.  A  new 
danger  awaited  me  as  the  cold  wind  whistled 
down  the  barren  beach  and  across  the  desolate 
marshes.  I  danced  about  to  keep  warm,  and  for 
a  moment  thought  that  my  canoe  voyage  had 
come  to  an  unfortunate  termination.  Then  a 
buoyant  feeling  succeeded  the  moment's  de- 
pression, and  I  felt  that  this  was  only  the  first 
of  many  trials  which  were  necessary  to  prepare 
me  for  the  successful  completion  of  my  under- 
taking. But  where  was  the  canoe,  with  its  pro- 
visions that  were  to  sustain  me,  and  the  charts 
which  wrere  to  point  out  my  way  through  the 
labyrinth  of  waters  she  was  yet  to  traverse? 
She  had  drifted  near  the  shore,  but  would  not 
land.  There  was  no  time  to  consider  the  pro- 
priety of  again  entering  the  water.  The  struggle 
was  a  short  though  severe  one,  and  I  dragged 
my  boat  ashore. 

Everything  was  wet  excepting  what  was  most 
needed,  —  a  flannel  suit,  carefully  rolled  in  a 
water-proof  cloth.  I  knew  that  I  must  change 
my  wet  clothes  for  dry  ones,  or  perish.  This 
was  no  easy  task  to  perform,  with  hands  be- 


110  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

numbed  and  limbs  paralyzed  with  the  cold.  O 
shade  of  Benjamin  Franklin,  did  not  one  of  thy 
kinsmen,  in  his  wide  experience  as  a  traveller, 
foresee  this  very  disaster,  and  did  he  not,  when 
I  left  the  "  City  of  Brotherly  Love,"  force  upon 
me  an  antidote,  a  sort  of  spiritual  fire,  which  my 
New  England  temperance  principles  made  me 
refuse  to  accept?  "It  is  old,  very  old,"  he  whis- 
pered, as  he  slipped  the  flask  into  my  coat-pock- 
et, "and  it  may  save  your  life.  Don't  be  foolish. 
I  have  kept  it  well  bottled.  It  is  a  pure  article, 
and  cost  sixteen  dollars  per  gallon.  I  use  it  only 
for  medicine"  I  found  the  flask;  the  -water 
had  not  injured  it.  A  small  quantity  was  taken, 
when  a  most  favorable  change  came  over  my 
entire  system,  mental  as  well  as  physical,  and  I 
was  able  to  throw  off  one  suit  and  put  on  an- 
other in  the  icy  wind,  that  might,  without  the 
stimulant,  have  ended  my  voyage  of  life. 

I  had  doctored  myself  homceopathically  under 
the  old  practice.  Filled  with  feelings  of  grat- 
itude to  the  Great  Giver  of  good,  I  reflected,  as 
I  carried  my  wet  cargo  into  the  marsh,  upon  the 
wonderful  effects  of  my  friend's  medicine  when 
taken  only  as  medicine.  Standing  upon  the  cold 
beach  and  gazing  into  the  sea,  now  lashed  by 
the  wild  frenzy  of  the  wind,  I  determined  never 
again  to  do  so  mean  a  thing  as  to  say  a  bad 
word  against  good  brandy. 

Having  relieved   my  conscience    by  this  just 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  Ill 

resolve,  I  transported  the  whole  of  my  wet  but 
still  precious  cargo  to  a  persimmon  grove,  on 
a  spot  of  firm  land  that  rose  out  of  the  marsh, 
where  I  made  a  convenient  wind-break  by 
stretching  rubber  blankets  between  trees.  On 
this  knoll  I  built  a  fire,  obtaining  the  matches 
to  kindle  it  from  a  water-proof  safe  presented  to 
me  by  Mr.  Epes  Sargent,  of  Boston,  some  years 
before,  when  I  was  ascending  the  St.  Johns 
River,  Florida. 

Before  dusk,  all  things  not  spoiled  by  the 
water  were  dried  and  secreted  in  the  tall  sedge 
of  the  marshes.  The  elevation  which  had  given 
me  friendly  shelter  is  known  as  "  Hog  Island." 
The  few  persimmon-trees  that  grew  upon  it  fur- 
nished an  ample  lunch,  for  the  frosts  had  mel- 
lowed the  plum-like  fruit,  making  it  sweet  and 
edible.  The  persimmon  (Diospyrus  Virgini- 
ana)  is  a  small  tree  usually  found  in  the  middle 
and  southern  states.  Coons  and  other  animals 
feast  upon  its  fruit.  The  deepening  gloom 
warned  me  to  seek  comfortable  quarters  for  the 
night. 

Two  miles  up  the  strand  was  an  old  gunners' 
inn,  to  which  I  bent  my  steps  along  Slaughter 
Beach,  praying  that  one  more  day's  effort  would 
take  me  out  of  this  bleak  region  of  ominous 
names.  A  pleasant  old  gentleman,  Mr.  Charles 
Todd,  kept  the  tavern,  known  as  Willow  Grove 
Hotel,  more  for  amusement  than  for  profit.  I 


112  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

said  nothing  to  him  about  the  peculiar  manner 
in  which  I  had  landed  on  Slaughter  Beach;  but 
to  his  inquiry  as  to  where  my  boat  was,  and 
what  kind  of  a  boat  it  was  to  live  in  such  a 
blow,  I  replied  that  I  found  it  too  wet  and  cold 
on  the  bay  to  remain  there,  and  too  rough  to 
proceed  to  Cape  Henlopen,  and  there  being  no 
alternative,  I  was  obliged  to  land  much  against 
my  inclination,  and  in  doing  so  was  drenched  to 
the  skin,  but  had  managed  to  get  dry  before  a 
fire  in  the  marshes.  So  the  kind  old  man  piled 
small  logs  in  the  great  kitchen  fireplace,  and 
told  me  tale  upon  tale  of  his  life  as  a  school- 
master out  west;  of  the  death  of  his  wife  there, 
and  of  his  desire  to  return,  after  long  years  of 
absence,  to  his  native  Delaware,  where  he  could 
be  comfortable,  and  have  all  the  clams,  oysters, 
fish,  and  bay  truck  generally  that  a  man  could 

wish  for. 

/ 

"  Now,"  he  added,  "  I  shall  spend  my  last 
days  here  in  peace."  He  furnished  an  excellent 
supper  of  weak-fish  or  sea  trout  {Otolithus  re~ 
galio],  fried  oysters,  sweet  potatoes,  &c. 

This  locality  offers  a  place  of  retirement  for 
men  of  small  means  and  limited  ambition.  The 
broad  bay  is  a  good  sailing  and  fishing  ground, 
while  the  great  marshes  are  the  resort  of  many 
birds.  The  light,  warm  soil  responds  generously 
to  little  cultivation.  After  a  day  of  hunting  and 
fishing,  the  new-comer  can  smoke  his  pipe  in 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

peace,  to  the  music  of  crackling  flames  in  the 
wide  old  fireplace.  Here  he  may  be  comfort- 
able, and  spend  his  last  days  quietly  vegetating, 
with  no  criticisms  on  his  deterioration,  knowing 
that  he  is  running  to  seed  no  faster  than  his 
neighbors. 

The  wind  had  gone  to  rest  with  the  sun,  and 
the  sharp  frost  that  followed  left  its  congealed 
breath  upon  the  shallow  pools  of  water  nearly 
half  an  inch  in  thickness  by  morning.  From 
my  bed  I  could  see  through  the  window  the 
bright  flashes  from  Cape  May  and  Cape  Hen- 
lopen  lights.  Had  not  misfortune  beset  me,  a 
four-hours'  pull  would  have  landed  me  at  Lewes. 
There  was  much  to  be  thankful  for,  however. 
Through  a  merciful  Providence  it  was  my  priv- 
ilege to  enjoy  a  soft  bed  at  the  Willow  Grove 
Inn,  and  not  a  cold  one  on  the  sands  of  Slaugh- 
ter Beach.  So  ended  my  last  day  on  Delaware 
Bay. 

8 


114  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

FROM   CAPE   HENLOPEN   TO    NORFOLK,  VIRGINIA. 

THE  PORTAGE  TO  LOVE  CREEK.  —  THE  DELAWARE  WHIPPING- 
POST.—  REHOBOTH  AND  INDIAN  RIVER  BAYS.  —  A  PORTAGE 
TO  LITTLE  ASSAWAMAN  BAY. —  ISLE  OF  WIGHT  BAY.  —  WIN- 
CHESTER PLANTATION.  —  CHINCOTEAGUE.  —  WATCHAPREAGUE 
INLET.  —  COBB'S  ISLAND. —  CHERRYSTONE. — ARRIVAL  AT  NOR- 
FOLK.—  THE  "LANDMARK'S"  ENTERPRISE. 


M 


Y  first  thought  the  next  morning  was  of  the 
lost  outrigger,  and  how  I  should  replace 
it.  My  host  soon  solved  the  problem  for  me. 
I  was  to  drive  to  the  scene  of  the  late  disaster  in 
his  light,  covered  wagon,  load  it  with  the  canoe 
and  cargo,  and  take  the  shortest  route  to  Love 
Creek,  six  miles  from  Lewes,  stopping  on  the* 
way  at  a  blacksmith's  for  a  new  outrigger. 
We  drove  over  sandy  roads,  through  forests  of 
pine  and  oak,  to  the  village  of  Milton,  where  a 
curious  crowd  gathered  round  us  and  facetiously 
asked  if  we  had  "  brought  the  canoe  all  the  way 
from  Troy  in  that  'ere  wagon."  The  village 
smith,  without  removing  the  paper  boat  from  her 
snug  quarters,  made  a  fair  outrigger  in  an  hour's 
time,  when  we  continued  our  monotonous  ride 


fiotite 

MARIA    THERESA 
wes,Dei.  toNorfolk 
Followed  by  N.H.Bishop 
in  187ft 


NlSJtishop's  Haute 
Light  House 
Scale  ISo&ooo 


Copyright.  1878.  by  Lee  f,  Shepani 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  11^, 

through  dreary  woods  to  a  clearing  upon  the 
banks  of  a  cedar  swamp,  where  in  a  cottage 
lived  Mr.  George  Webb,  to  whom  Bob  Hazzle, 
my  driver,  presented  me.  Having  now  reached 
Love  Creek,  I  deposited  my  canoe  with  Mr. 
Webb,  and  started  off  for  Lewes  to  view  the 
town  and  the  ocean. 

Across  the  entrance  of  Delaware  Bay,  from 
Cape  Henlopen  Light  to  Cape  May  Light  on  the 
southern  end  of  New  Jersey,  is  a  distance  of 
twelve  statute  miles.  Saturday  night  and  Sun- 
day were  passed  in  Lewes,  which  is  situated 
inside  of  Cape  Henlopen,  and  behind  the  cel- 
ebrated stone  breakwater  which  was  constructed 
by  the  government.  This  port  of  refuge  is  much 
frequented  by  coasters,  as  many  as  two  or  three 
hundred  sails  collecting  here  during  a  severe 
gale.  The  government  is  building  a  remarka- 
ble pier  of  solid  iron  spiles,  three  abreast,  which, 
when  completed,  will  run  out  seventeen  hun- 
dred feet  into  the  bay,  and  reach  a  depth  of 
twenty-three  feet  of  water.  Captain  Brown,  of 
the  Engineers,  was  in  charge  of  the  work.  By  the 
application  of  a  jet  of  water,  forced  by  an  hydrau- 
lic pump  through  a  tube  down  the  outside  of 
the  spile  while  it  is  being  screwed  into  the  sand, 
a  puddling  of  the  same  is  kept  up,  which  re- 
lieves the  strain  upon  the  screw-flanges,  and 
saves  fourteen-fifteenths  of  the  time  and  labor 
usually  expended  by  the  old  method  of  inserting 


Il6  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

the  screw  spile.  This  invention  was  a  happy 
thought  of  Captain  Brown. 

The  government  has  purchased  a  piece  of  land 
at  Lewes  for  the  site  of  a  fort.  Some  time  in  the 
future  there  will  be  a  railroad  terminating  on  the 
pier,  and  coal  will  be  brought  directly  from  the 
mines  to  supply  the  fleets  which  will  gather  with- 
in the  walls  of  the  Breakwater.  Here,  free  from 
all  danger  of  an  ice  blockade,  this  port  will  be- 
come a  safe  and  convenient  harbor  and  coaling- 
station  during  the  winter  time  for  government 
and  other  vessels. 

At  dusk  on  Sunday  evening  the  collector  of 
the  port,  Captain  Lyons,  and  his  friends,  took 
me  in  their  carriage  back  to  Love  Creek,  where 
Mr.  Webb  insisted  upon  making  me  the  recipi- 
ent of  his  hospitality  for  the  night.  A  little 
crowd  of  women  from  the  vicinity  of  the  swamp 
were  awaiting  my  arrival  to  see  the  canoe.  One 
ancient  dame,  catching  sight  of  the  alcohol-stove 
which  I  took  from  my  vest-pocket,  clapped  her 
thin  hands  and  enthusiastically  exclaimed,  "What 
a  nice  thing  for  a  sick-room  —  the  best  nuss-lamp 
I  ever  seed!  "  Having  satisfied  the  curiosity  of 
these  people,  and  been  much  amused  by  their 
quaint  remarks,  I  was  quietly  smuggled  into  Mr. 
Webb's  "  best  room,"  "where,  if  my  spirit  did  not 
make  feathery  flights,  it  was  not  the  fault  of  the 
downy  bed  in  whose  unfathomable  depths  I  now 
lost  myself. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  I 17 

Before  leaving  Delaware  I  feel  it  an  impera- 
tive duty  to  the  public  to  refer  to  one  of  her 
time-honored  institutions. 

Persons  unacquainted  with  the  fact  will  find 
it  difficult  to  believe  that  one  state  of  the  great 
American  Republic  still  holds  to  the  practice  of 
lashing  men  and  women,  white  and  black.  Del- 
aware —  one  of  the  smallest  states  of  the  Union, 
the  citizens  of  which  are  proverbially  generous 
and  hospitable,  a  state  which  has  produced  a 
Bayard  —  is,  to  her  shame  we  regret  to  say,  the 
culprit  which  sins  against  the  spirit  of  civilization 
in  this  nineteenth  century,  one  hundred  years 
after  the  fathers  of  the  Republic  declared  equal 
rights  for  all  men.  In  treating  of  so  delicate  a 
subject,  I  desire  to  do  no  one  injustice ;  therefore 
I  will  let  a  native  of  Delaware  speak  for  his 
community. 

"  DOVER,  DELAWARE,  August  2,  1873. 
"EDITOR  CAMDEN  SPY:  According  to  prom- 
ise, I  now  write  you  a  little  about  Delaware. 
Persons  in  your  vicinity  look  upon  the  ?  Little 
Diamond  State'  as  a  mere  bog,  or  marsh,  and 
mud  and  water  they  suppose  are  its  chief  pro- 
ductions ;  but,  in  my  opinion,  it  is  one  of  the 
finest  little  states  in  the  Union.  Although  small, 

O  7 

in  proportion  to  the  size  it  produces  more  grain 
and  fruit  than  any  other  state  in  the  country,  and 
they  are  unexcelled  as  regards  quality  and  flavor. 


Il8  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

Crime  is  kept  in  awe  by  that  best  of  institutions, 
the  whipping-post  and  pillory  !  These  are  the 
bugbear  of  all  the  northern  newspapers,  and 
they  can  say  nothing  too  harsh  or  severe  against 
them.  The  whipping-post  in  Kent  County  is 
situated  in  the  yard  of  the  jail,  and  is  about  six 
feet  in  height  and  three  feet  in  circumference;  the 
prisoner  is  fastened  to  it  by  means  of  bracelets, 
or  arms,  on  the  wrist;  and  the  sheriff  executes 
the  sentence  of  the  law  by  baring  the  convict  to 
the  waist,  and  on  the  bare  back  lashing  him 
twenty,  forty,  or  sixty  times,  according  to  the 
sentence.  But  the  blood  does  not  run  in  streams 
from  the  prisoner's  back,  nor  is  he  thrown  into  a 
barrel  of  brine,  and  salt  sprinkled  over  the  lashes. 
On  the  contrary,  I  have  seen  them  laugh,  and 
coolly  remark  that  c  it's  good  exercise,  and  gives 
us  an  appetite.'  But  there  are  others  who  raise 
the  devil's  own  row  with  their  yells  and  horrible 
cries  of  pain.  The  whipping  is  public,  and  is 
witnessed  each  time  by  large  numbers  of  people 
who  come  from  miles  around  to  see  the  culprit 
disgraced. 

"A  public  whipping  occurred  not  very  long 
ago,  and  the  day  was  very  stormy,  yet  there 
were  fully  three  hundred  spectators  on  the  ground 
to  witness  this  wholesome  punishment!  A  per- 
son who  has  been  lashed  at  the  whipping-post 
cannot  vote  again  in  this  state;  thus,  most  of  the 
criminals  who  are  whipped  leave  the  state  in 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  119 

order  to  regain  their  citizenship.  The  newspapers 
can  blow  until  they  are  tired  about  this  f  horrible, 
barbaric,  and  unchristian  punishment,'  but  if  their 
own  states  would  adopt  this  form  of  punishment, 
they  would  find  crime  continually  on  the  de- 
crease. What  is  imprisonment  for  a  few  months 
or  years?  It  is  soon  over  with;  and  then  they 
are  again  let  out  upon  the  community,  to  beg, 
borrow,  and  steal.  But  to  be  publicly  whipped 
is  an  everlasting  disgrace,  and  deters  men  from 
committing  wrong.  Women  are  whipped  in  the 
same  manner,  and  they  take  it  very  hard ;  but,  to 
my  recollection,  there  has  not  been  a  female 
prisoner  for  some  time.  I  did  not  intend  to  com- 
ment so  long  upon  the  whipping-posts  in  the 
state  of  Delaware. 

"The  pillory  next  claims  our  attention.  This 
is  a  long  piece  of  board  that  runs  through  the 
whipping-post  at  the  top,  and  has  holes  [as  per 
engraving]  for  the  neck  and  arms  to  rest  in  a 
very  constrained  position.  The  prisoner  is  com- 
pelled to  stand  on  his  toes  for  an  hour  with  his 
neck  and  arms  in  the  holes,  and  if  he  sinks  from 
exhaustion,  as  it  sometimes  happens,  the  neck  is 
instantly  broken.  Josiah  Ward,  the  villain  who 
escaped  punishment  for  the  murder  of  the  man 
Wady  in  your  county,  came  into  Delaware, 
broke  into  a  shoe-store,  succeeded  in  stealing  one 
pair  of  shoes,  —  was  arrested,  got  sixty  lashes  at 
the  post,  was  made  to  stand  in  the  pillory  one 


I2O  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

hour,  is  now  serving  out  a  term  of  two  years' 
imprisonment,  —  and  he  never  got  the  shoes! 
The  pillory  is  certainly  a  terrible  and  cruel  pun- 
ishment, and,  while  I  heartily  favor  the  whipping- 
post, I  think  this  savage  punishment  should  be 
abolished. 

"  Since  writing  the  above,  I  have  heard  that  a 
colored  woman  was  convicted  of  murder  in  the 
second  degree  last  May,  and  on  Saturday  the 
1 7th  of  that  month  received  sixty  lashes  on  her 
bare  back,  and  stood  in  the  pillory  one  hour. 

"What  do  you  think  of  Delaware   law,  after 
what   I   have  written?     I   have  written    enough 
for  the  present,  so  I  will  close,  ever  remaining, 
:<  Yours  very  truly,  „ 

For  twenty  years  past,  Delaware  and  Mary- 
land farmers  have  given  much  attention  to  peach 
culture,  which  has  gradually  declined  in  New 
Jersey  and  states  further  north.  There  are  said 
to  be  over  sixty  thousand  acres  of  land  on  the 
peninsula  planted  with  peach-trees,  which  are 
estimated  to  be  worth  fifty  dollars  per  acre,  or 
three  million  dollars.  To  harvest  this  crop  re- 
quires at  least  twenty-five  thousand  men,  women, 
and  children.  The  planting  of  an  acre  of  peach- 
trees,  and  its  cultivation  to  maturity,  costs  from 
thirty  to  forty  dollars.  The  canners  take  a  large 
portion  of  the  best  peaches,  which  are  shipped 
to  foreign  as  well  as  to  domestic  markets. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  121 

The  low  lands  and  river-shores  of  the  penin- 
sula exhale  malaria  which  attacks  the  inhabitants 
in  a  mild  form  of  ague.  During  the  spring, 
summer,  and  early  fall  months,  a  prudent  man 
will  not  expose  himself  to  the  air  until  after 
the  sun  has  risen  and  dispelled  the  mists  of 
morning.  The  same  caution  should  be  observed 
all  through  the  low  regions  of  the  south,  both 
as  to  morning  and  evening  exercise.  Chills  and 
fever  are  the  bane  of  the  southern  and  middle 
states,  as  this  disease  affects  the  health  and 
elastic  vigor  of  the  constitution,  and  also  pro- 
duces great  mental  depression.  Yet  those  who 
suffer,  even  on  every  alternate  day,  from  chills, 
seem  to  accept  the  malaria  as  nothing  of  much 
importance;  though  it  is  a  well-known  fact  that 
this  form  of  intermittent  fever  so  reduces  the 
strength,  that  the  system  is  unable  to  cope  with 
other  and  more  dangerous  diseases  for  which  it 
paves  the  way. 

Upon  a  little  creek,  tributary  to  St.  Martin's 
River,  and  near  its  confluence  with  the  Isle  of 
Wight  Bay,  a  long  day's  pull  from  the  swamp  of 
Love  Creek,  was  the  old  plantation  home  of  a 
friend  of  my  boyhood,  Mr.  Taylor,  who  about 
this  time  was  looking  out  for  the  arrival  of  the 
paper  canoe.  It  was  a  question  whether  I  could 
descend  Love  Creek  three  miles,  cross  Rehoboth 
and  Indian  River  sounds,  ascend  White's  Creek, 
make  a  portage  to  Little  Assawaman  Bay,  thread 


122  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

the  thoroughfare  west  of  Fenwick's  Island  Light, 
cross  the  Isle  of  Wight  Bay,  ascend  and  cross  St. 
Martin's  River  to  Turval's  Creek,  and  reach  the 
home  of  my  friend,  all  in  one  day.  But  I  deter- 
mined to  attempt  the  task.  Mr.  Webb  roused  his 
family  at  an  early  hour,  and  I  rowed  down  Love 
Creek  and  crossed  the  shallow  waters  of  Reho- 
both  Bay  in  the  early  part  of  the  day. 

From  Cape  Henlopen,  following  the  general 
contour  of  the  coast,  to  Cape  Charles  at  the 
northern  entrance  of  Chesapeake  Bay,  is  a  dis- 
tance of  one  hundred  and  thirty-six  miles;  from 
Cape  Charles  across  the  mouth  of  Chesapeake 
Bay  to  Cape  Henry  is  thirteen  miles;  from 
Henlopen  south,  the  state  of  Delaware  occupies 
about  twenty  miles  of  the  coast;  the  eastern 
shore  of  Maryland  holds  between  thirty  and 
forty  miles,  while  the  eastern  shore  of  Virginia, 
represented  by  the  counties  of  Accomac  and 
Northampton,  covers  the  peninsula  to  Cape 
Charles. 

Commencing  at  Rehoboth  Bay,  a  small  boat 
may  follow  the  interior  waters  to  the  Chesapeake 
Bay.  The  watercourses  of  this  coast  are  pro- 
tected from  the  rough  waves  of  the  ocean  by 
long,  narrow,  sand}7  islands,  known  as  beaches, 
between  which  the  tides  enter.  These  passages 
from  the  sea  to  the  interior  waters  are  called 
inlets,  and  most  of  them  are  navigable  for  coast- 
ing vessels  of  light  draught.  These  inlets  are  so 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  123 

influenced  by  the  action  of  storms,  and  their 
shores  and-  locations  are  so  changed  by  them, 
that  the  cattle  may  graze  to-day  in  tranquil  happi- 
ness where  only  a  generation  ago  the  old  skipper 
navigated  his  craft.  During  June  of  the  year 
1821  a  fierce  gale  opened  Sandy  Point  Inlet  with 
a  foot  depth  of  water,  but  it  closed  in  1831. 
Green  Point  Inlet  was  cut  through  the  beach 
during  a  gale  in  1837,  and  was  closed  up  seven 
years  later.  Old  Sinepuxent  Inlet,  which  was 
forced  open  by  the  sea  more  than  sixty  years 
ago,  closed  in  1831.  These  three  inlets  were 
within  a  space  of  three  miles,  and  were  all  north 
of  Chincoteague  village.  Green  Run  Inlet, 
which  had  a  depth  of  about  six  feet  of  water  for 
nearly  ten  years,  also  closed  after  shifting  half  a 
mile  to  the  south  of  its  original  location.  The 
tendency  of  inlets  on  this  coast  is  to  shift  to  the 
southward,  as  do  the  inlets  on  the  coast  of  New 
Jersey. 

Oystermen,  fishermen,  and  farmers  live  along 
the  upland,  and  in  some  cases  on  the  island 
beaches.  From  these  bays,  timber,  firewood, 
grain,  and  oysters  are  shipped  to  northern  ports. 
The  people  are  everywhere  kind  and  hospitable 
to  strangers.  A  mild  climate,  cheap  and  easily 
worked  soils,  wild-fowl  shooting,  fine  oysters  and 
fishing  privileges,  offer  inducements  to  North- 
erners and  Europeans  to  settle  in  this  country; 
the  mild  form  of  ague  which  exists  in  most 


124  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

of  its  localities  being  the  only  objection.  While 
debating  this  point  with  a  native,  he  attacked  my 
argument  by  saying: 

"Law  sakes!  don't  folks  die  of  something, 
any  way?  If  you  don't  have  fever  'n'  ague  round 
Massachusetts,  you've  got  an  awful  lot  of  things 
we  hain't  got  here  —  a  tarnashun  sight  wuss  ones, 
too;  sich  as  cumsempsun,  brown-critters,  mental 
spinageetis,  lung-disease,  and  all  sorts  of  brown- 
kill  disorders.  Besides,  you  have  such  awful 
cold  winters  that  a  farmer  has  to  stay  holed  four 
months  out  of  the  year,  while  wre  folks  in  the 
south  can  work  most  of  the  time  out  of  doors. 
I'll  be  dog-goned  if  I  hadn't  ruther  live  here  in 
poverty  than  die  up  north  a-rolling  in  riches. 
Now,  stranger,  as  to  what  you  said  about  sick- 
ness, why  we  aren't  no  circumstance  to  you  fel- 
lows up  north.  Why,  your  hull  country  is  chuck- 
full  of  pizenous  remedies.  When  I  was  a-coast- 
ing  along  Yankeedom  and  went  ashore,  I  found 
all  the  rocks  along  the  road  were  jist  kivered 
with  quack-medicine  notices,  and  all  the  farmers 
hired  out  the  outsides  of  their  barns  to  advertise 
doctor's  stuff  on." 

In  no  portion  of  America  do  the  people  seem 
to  feel  the  burden  of  earning  a  livelihood  more 
lightly.  They  get  a  great  deal  of  social  enjoy- 
ment out  of  life  at  very  little  cost,  and  place 
much  less  value  on  the  "mighty  dollar"  than  do 
their  brother  farmers  of  the  northern  section  of 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  125 

the  states.  The  interesting  inquiry  of  "Who  was 
his  father?  "  commences  at  Philadelphia,  and  its 
importance  intensifies  as  you  travel  southward. 
Old  family  associations  have  great  weight  among 
all  classes. 

It  was  six  miles  from  the  mouth  of  Love  Creek 
across  the  little  sound  to  Burton's  marshy  island 
at  the  entrance  of  Indian  River  Sound.  Indian 
River  supplies  its  bay  with  much  of  its  fresh 
water,  and  the  small  inlet  in  the  beach  of  the 
same  name  with  the  salt  water  of  the  ocean. 
Large  flocks  of  geese  and  ducks  were  seen  upon 
the  quiet  waters  of  the  sound.  Pursuing  my 
southward  course  across  Indian  River  Sound 
three  miles,  I  entered  a  small  creek  with  a  wide 
mouth,  which  flows  north  from  the  cedar  swamp, 
known  as  White's  Creek,  which  I  ascended  until 
the  stream  became  so  narrow  that  it  seemed 
almost  lost  in  the  wilderness,  when  suddenly 
an  opening  in  the  forest  showed  me  a  clearing 
with  the  little  buildings  of  a  farm  scattered 
around.  It  was  the  home  of  a  Methodist  ex- 
horter,  Mr.  Silas  J.  Betts.  I  told  him  how  anx- 
ious I  was  to  make  a  quick  portage  to  the 
nearest  southern  water,  Little  Assawaman  Bay, 
not  much  more  than  three  miles  distant  by  road. 

After  calmly  examining  my  boat,  he  said:  "It 
is  now  half-past  eleven  o'clock.  Wife  has  dinner 
about  ready.  I'll  hurry  her  up  a  little,  and  while 
she  is  putting  it  on  the  table  we  will  get  the  cart 


126  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

ready."  The  cart  was  soon  loaded  with  pine 
needles  as  a  bed  for  the  canoe.  We  lashed  her 
into  a  firm  position  with  cords,  and  went  in  to 
dinner. 

In  a  short  time  after,  we  were  rattling  over  a 
level,  wooded  country  diversified  here  and  there 
by  a  little  farm.  The  shallow  bay,  the  east  side 
of  which  was  separated  from  the  ocean  by  sandy 
hills,  was  bounded  by  marshes.  We  drove  close 
to  the  water  and  put  the  Maria  Theresa  once 
more  into  her  true  element.  A  friendly  shake 
of  the  hand  as  I  paid  the  conscientious  man  his 
charge  of  one  dollar  for  his  services,  with  many 
thanks  for  his  hospitality,  for  which  he  would 
accept  nothing — and  the  canoe  was  off,  threading 
the  narrow  and  very  shallow  channel-way  of  this 
grassy-bottomed  bay. 

The  tall  tower  of  Fenwick's  Island  Light, 
located  on  the  boundary  line  of  Delaware  and 
Maryland,  was  now  my  landmark.  It  rises  out 
of  the  low  land  that  forms  a  barrier  against 
which  the  sea  breaks.  The  people  on  the  coast 
pronounce  Fenwick  "Phoenix."  Phoenix  Island, 
they  say,  was  once  a  part  of  the  mainland,  but  a 
woman,  wishing  to  keep  her  cattle  from  stray- 
ing? gave  a  man  a  shirt  for  digging  a  narrow 
ditch  between  Little  and  Great  Assawaman 
bays.  The  tide  ebbed  and  flowed  so  strongly 
through  this  new  channel-way  that  it  was  worn 
to  more  than  a  hundred  feet  in  width,  and  has 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  127 

at  high  tide  a  depth  in  places  of  from  ten  to  fif- 
teen feet  of  water.  The  opening  of  this  new 
thoroughfare  so  diminished  the  flow  of  water 
through  the  Little  Assawaman  Inlet  to  the  sea, 
that  it  became  closed.  The  water  was  almost 
fresh  here,  as  the  nearest  inlet  which  admits  salt 
water  at  high  tide  is  at  Chincoteague  Island, 
some  fifty  miles  distant. 

Passing  to  the  west  of  the  light-house  through 
this  passage,  I  thought  of  what  a  woman  could 
do,  and  almost  expected  to  hear  from  the  rippling 
waters  the  "Song  of  the  Shirt,"  which  would 
have  been  in  this  case  a  much  more  cheerful 
one  than  Hood's.  I  now  entered  Great  Assa- 
waman Bay,  the  waters  of  which  lay  like  a  mir- 
ror before  me;  and  nearly  five  miles  away,  to  the 
southwestern  end,  the  tall  forests  of  the  Isle  of 
Wight  loomed  up  against  the  setting  sun.  Ducks 
rose  in  flocks  from  the  quiet  waters  as  my  canoe 
glided  into  their  close  vicinity.  If  I  could  have 
taken  less  cargo,  I  should  have  carried  a  light 
gun;  but  this  being  impossible,  a  pocket  re- 
volver was  my  only  fire-arm:  so  the  ducks  and 
other  wild-fowl  along  my  route  had  reason  to 
hold  the  paper  canoe  in  grateful  remembrance. 

Upon  reaching  the  shores  of  the  Isle  of  Wight 
I  entered  the  mouth  of  St.  Martin's  River,  which 
is,  at  its  confluence  with  Isle  of  Wight  Bay,  more 
than  two  miles  wide.  I  did  not  then  possess  the 
fine  Coast  Chart  No.  28,  or  the  General  Chart 


128      VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

of  the  Coast,  No.  4,  with  the  topography  of  the 
land  clearly  delineated,  and  showing  every  man's 
farm-buildings,  fields,  landings,  &c.,  so  plainly 
located  as  to  make  it  easy  for  even  a  novice  to 
navigate  these  bays.  Now,  being  chartless  so 
far  as  these  waters  were  concerned,  I  peered 
about  in  the  deepening  twilight  for  my  friend's 
plantation  buildings,  which  I  knew  were  not  far 
off;  but  the  gloomy  forests  of  pine  upon  the  up- 
land opened  not  the  desired  vista  I  so  longed 
to  find. 

Crossing  the  wide  river,  I  came  upon  a  long 
point  of  salt-marsh,  which  I  hoped  might  be 
Keyser's  Point,  for  I  knew  that  to  the  west  of 
this  point  I  should  find  Turval's  Creek.  While 
rowing  along  the  marsh  I  came  upon  two  duck- 
shooters  in  their  punt,  but  so  enveloped  were 
they  in  the  mist  that  it  was  impossible  to  do 
more  than  define  their  forms.  I,  however,  ven- 
tured a  question  as  to  my  locality,  when,  to  my 
utter  astonishment,  there  came  back  to  me  in 
clear  accents  my  own  name.  Never  before  had 
it  sounded  so  sweet  to  my  ears.  It  was  the 
voice  of  my  friend,  who  with  a  companion 
was  occupied  in  removing  from  the  water  the 
flock  of  decoys  which  they  had  been  guard- 
ing since  sunrise.  Joyful  was  the  unexpected 
meeting. 

We  rowed  around  Keyser's  Point,  and  up  Tur- 
val's Creek,  a  couple  'of  miles  to  the  plantation 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  129 

landing.  Here,  upon  the  old  estate  in  the  little 
family  burial-ground,  slept,  "  each  in  his  narrow 
cell,"  the  children  of  four  generations.  Our  con- 
versation before  the  blazing  wood-fire  that  night 
related  to  the  ground  travelled  over  during  the  day, 
a  course  of  about  thirty-five  miles.  Mr.  Taylor's 
father  mentioned  that  a  friend,  during  one  week 
in  the  previous  September,  had  taken  upon  his 
hook,  while  fishing  from  the  marshes  of  Reho- 
both  Bay,  five  hundred  rock-fish,  some  of  which 
weighed  twenty  pounds.  The  oysters  in  Reho- 
both  and  Indian  River  bays  had  died  out, 
probably  from  the  decrease  in  the  amount  of 
salt  water  now  entering  them.  A  delightful 
week  was  spent  with  my  friends  at  Winchester 
Plantation,  when  the  falling  of  the  mercury 
warned  me  to  hurry  southward. 

On  Wednesday,  November  25,  I  descended 
the  plantation  creek  and  rowed  out  of  St.  Mar- 
tin's River  into  the  Bay.  My  course  southward 
led  me  past  "the  Hommack,"  an  Indian  mound 
of  oyster-shells,  which  rises  about  seven  feet 
above  the  marsh  on  the  west  side  of  the  entrance 
to  Sinepuxent  bay, .  and  where  the  mainland 
approaches  to  within  eight  hundred  feet  of  the 
beach.  This  point,  which  divides  the  Isle  of 
Wight  Bay  from  Sinepuxent,  is  the  terminus  of 
the  Wicomico  and  Pocomoke  Railroad,  which 
has  been  extended  from  Berlin  eastwardly  seven 
miles.  A  short  ferry  conveys  the  passengers 
9 


130  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

across  the  water  to  a  narrow  island  beach,  which 
is  considered  by  Bayard  Taylor,  the  author,  the 
finest  beach  he  has  ever  visited.  This  new 
watering-place  is  called  Ocean  City;  and  my 
friend,  B.  Jones  Taylor,  was  treasurer  of  the 
company  which  was  engaged  in  making  the 
much-desired  improvements.  The  shallow  bays 
in  the  vicinity  of  Ocean  City  offer  safe  and  pleas- 
ant sailing-grounds.  The  summer  fishing  con- 
sists chiefly  of  white  perch,  striped  bass,  sheep's- 
head,  weak-fish,  and  drum.  In  the  fall,  bluefish 
are  caught.  All  of  these,  with  oysters,  soft 
crabs,  and  diamond-backed  terrapin,  offer  tempt- 
ing dishes  to  the  epicure.  This  recently  isolated 
shore  is  now  within  direct  railroad  communica- 
tion with  Philadelphia  and  New  York,  and  can 
be  reached  in  nine  hours  from  the  former,  and 
in  twelve  hours  from  the  latter  city. 

From  the  Hommack  to  South  Point  is  included 
the  length  of  Sinepuxent  Bay,  according  to  Coast 
Survey  authority.  From  South  Point  to  below 
the  middle  of  Chincoteague  Island  the  bay  is 
put  down  as  "Assateague,"  though  the  oystermen 
do  not  call  it  by  that  name.  The  celebrated 
oyster-beds  of  the  people  of  Chincoteague  com- 
mence about  twenty  miles  south  of  the  Hom- 
mack. There  are  two  kinds  of  oysters  shipped 
from  Chincoteague  Inlet  to  New  York  and 
other  markets.  One  is  the  long  native  plant ; 
the  other,  that  transplanted  from  Chesapeake 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.        *    13! 

Bay:  this  bivalve  is  rounded  in  form,  and  the 
most  prized  of  the  two.  The  average  width  of 
Sinepuxent  was  only  a  mile.  When  I  turned 
westwardly  around  South  Point,  and  entered 
Assateague  Bay,  the  watery  expanse  widened, 
between  the  marshes  on  the  west  and  the  sandy- 
beach  island  on  the  east,  to  over  four  miles. 

The  debouchure  of  Newport  Creek  is  to  the 
west  of  South  Point.  The  marshes  here  are 
very  wide.  I  ascended  it  in  the  afternoon  to 
visit  Dr.  F.  J.  Purnell,  whose  attempts  to  intro- 
duce the  pinnated  grouse  and  California  par- 
tridges on  his  plantation  had  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  Mr.  Charles  Hallock,  editor  of  "  Forest 
and  Stream";  and  I  had  promised  him,  if  possi- 
ble, to  investigate  the  matter.  This  South  Point 
of  Sinepuxent  Neck  is  a  place  of  historical  in- 
terest, it  being  now  asserted  that  it  is  the  burial- 
place  of  Edward  Whalley,  the  regicide. 

Early  in  1875,  Mr.  Robert  P.  Robins  found  in  a 
bundle  of  old  family  documents  a  paper  containing 
interesting  statements  written  by  his  great-great- 
grandfather, Thomas  Robins,  3d,  of  South  Point, 
Worcester  County,  Maryland,  and  dated  July  8, 
1769.  We  gather  from  this  reliable  source  that 
Edward  Whalley  left  Connecticut  and  arrived  in 
Virginia  in  16 — ,  and  wTas  there  met  by  a  portion 
of  his  family.  From  Virginia  he  travelled  to 
the  "  province  of  Maryland,  and  settled  first  at 
ye  mouth  of  ye  Pokemoke  River;  and  finding 


132  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

yt  too  publick  a  place  he  came  to  Sinepuxent,  a 
neck  of  land  open  to  ye  Atlantic  Ocean,  where 
Colonel  Stephen  was  surveying  and  bought  a 
tract  of  land  from  him  and  called  it  Genezar;  it 
contained  two  thousand  two  hundred  acres,  south 
end  of  Sinepuxent;  and  made  a  settlement  on  ye 
southern  extremity,  and  called  it  South  Point;  to 
ye  which  place  he  brought  his  family  about  1687, 
in  ye  name  of  Edward  Middleton.  His  own  name 
he  made  not  publick  until  after  this  date,  after  ye 
revolution  in  England,  (in  ye  year  of  our  Lord 
1688,)  when  he  let  his  name  be  seen  in  publick 
papers,  and  had  ye  lands  patented  in  his  own 
name." 

The  writer  of  the  above  quotation  was  the 
great-grandson  of  Edward  Whalley  (alias  Edward 
Middleton),  the  celebrated  regicide. 

Four  miles  from  South  Point  I  struck  the 
marshes  which  skirted  Dr.  Purnell's  large  plan- 
tation, and  pushing  the  canoe  up  a  narrow  branch 
of  the  creek,  I  waded  through  the  partially  sub- 
merged herbage  to  the  firm  ground,  where  the 
doctor  was  awaiting  me.  His  house  was  close 
at  hand,  within  the  hospitable  walls  of  which  I 
passed  the  night.  Dr.  Purnell  has  an  estate  of 
one  thousand  five  hundred  acres,  lying  along  the 
banks  of  Newport  Creek.  Since  the  civil  war  it 
has  been  worked  by  tenants.  Much  of  it  is 
woodland  and  salt-marshes.  Five  years  before 
my  visit,  a  Philadelphian  sent  the  doctor  a  few 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  133 

pairs  of  prairie-chickens,  and  a  covey  of  both  the 
valley  and  the  mountain  partridge.  I  am  now 
using  popular  terms.  The  grouse  were  from  a 
western  state;  the 'partridges  had  been  obtained 
from  California.  The  partridges  were  kept  caged 
for  several  weeks  and  were  then  set  at  liberty. 
They  soon  disappeared  in  the  woods,  with  the 
exception  of  a  single  pair,  which  returned  daily 
to  the  kitchen-door  of  a  farm  tenant  to  obtain 
food.  These  two  birds  nested  in  the  garden 
close  to  the  house,  and  reared  a  fine  brood  of 
young;  but  the  whole  covey  wandered  away,  and 
were  afterwards  heard  from  but  once.  They 
had  crossed  to  the  opposite  side  of  Newport 
Creek,  and  were  probably  shot  by  gunners. 

The  prairie-chickens  adapted  themselves  to 
their  new  home  in  a  satisfactory  manner,  and 
became  very  tame.  Their  nests,  well  filled  with 
eggs,  were  found  along  the  rail-fences  of  the  fields 
in  the  close  vicinity  of  the  marshes,  for  which 
level  tracts  they  seemed  to  have  strong  attach- 
ment. They  multiplied  rapidly,  and  visited  the 
cattle-pens  and  barn-yards  of  the  plantation. 

The  Maryland  legislature  passed  a  law  to  pro- 
tect all  grouse  introduced  into  the  state;  but  a 
new  danger  threatened  these  unfortunate  birds. 
A  crew  of  New  Jersey  terrapin-hunters  entered 
Chincoteague  Inlet,  and  searched  the  ditches  and 
little  creeks  of  the  salt-marshes  for  the  "  diamond- 
backs."  While  thus  engaged,  the  gentle  grouse, 


134  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

feeding  quietly  in  the  vicinity,  attracted  their 
attention,  and  they  at  once  bagged  most  of  them. 
A  tenant  on  the  estate  informed  me  that  he  had 
seen  eighteen  birds  in  a  cornfield  a  few  days  be- 
fore —  the  remnant  of  the  stock. 

The  Ruffled  Grouse  {Bonasa  umbellus),  so 
abundant  in  New  Jersey,  is  not  a  resident  of  the 
peninsula.  Dr.  Purnell's  first  experiment  with 
the  Pinnated  Grouse  (Cvpidonia  cupido]  has 
encouraged  others  to  bring  the  ruffled  grouse  to 
the  eastern  shore  of  Maryland.  That  unapproach- 
able songster  of  the  south,  the  American  Mock- 
ing-bird (Mimus  -polyglottus))  is  becoming 
scarce  in  this  region,  from  the  inroads  made  by 
bird-catchers  who  ship  the  young  to  northern 
cities.  This  delightful  chorister  is  only  an  acci- 
dental visitor  in  the  New  England  states.  In- 
deed, as  far  south  as  Ocean  County,  New  Jersey, 
j^saw  but  one  of  these  birds,  in  a  residence  of 
nine  years  on  my  cranberry  plantations ;  though  I 
have  heard  that  their  nests  are  occasionally  found 
about  Cape  May,  at  the  extreme  southern  end  of 
New  Jersey. 

My  time  being  limited,  I  could  enjoy  the  doc- 
tor's hospitality  for  but  one  night.  The  next 
morning  the  whole  family,  with  tenants  both 
black  and  white,  assisted  me  to  embark.  By 
dusk  I  had  crossed  the  division  line  of  two  states, 
and  had  entered  Virginia  near  the  head  of  Chin- 
coteague  Island,  a  locality  of  peculiar  interest  to 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER   CANOE.  135 

the  student  of  American  character.  The  ebb- 
tide had  left  but  little  water  around  the  rough  pier 
abreast  of  the  town,  and  heaps  of  oyster-shells 
rose  from  the  mud  flats  and  threatened  the 
safety  of  my  canoe.  I  looked  up  through  the 
darkness  to  the  light  pier-head  above  me,  and 
called  for  assistance.  Two  men  leaned  over  to 
inquire,  "What's  the  row  now,  stranger?"  To 
which  I  replied,  "  I  wish  to  land  a  light  boat  on 
your  pier;  and  as  it  is  made  of  paper,  it  should 
be  carefully  handled."  For  a  moment  the  oys- 
termen  observed  a  silence,  and  then,  without  one 
word  of  explanation,  disappeared.  I  heard  their 
heavy  boots  tramping  up  the  quay  towards  the 
tavern.  Soon  a  low  murmur  arose  on  the  night 
air,  then  hoarse  shouts,  and  there  came  thunder- 
ing down  the  wharf  an  army  of  men  and  boys. 
"Pass  her  up,  stranger!"  they  cried.  "Here, 
give  us  your  bow  and  starn  painters,  and  jest' 
step  overboard  yourself,  and  we'll  hist  her  up." 
Some  of  the  motley  crew  caught  me  by  the 
shoulders,  others  "  histed  away,"  and  the  canoe 
and  its  captain  were  laid  roughly  upon  the 
ground. 

There  was  a  rush  to  feel  of  the  paper  shell. 
Many  were  convinced  that  there  was  no  humbug 
about  it;  so,  with  a  great  shout,  some  of  the  men 
tossed  it  upon  their  shoulders,  while  the  rest 
seized  upon  the  miscellaneous  cargo,  and  a  rush 
was  made  for  the  hotel,  leaving  me  to  follow  at 


136     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

discretion  and  alone.  The  procession  burst  open 
the  doors  of  the  tavern,  and  poured  through 
the  entrance  to  a  court-yard,  where  they  laid 
the  boat  upon  a  long  table  under  a  shed,  and 
thought  they  had  earned  "  drinks."  This  was  the 
spontaneous  way  in  which  the  Chincoteague  peo- 
ple welcomed  me.  "  If  you  don't  drink,  stranger, 
up  your  way,  what  on  airth  keeps  your  buddies 
and  soulds  together?  "  queried  a  tall  oysterman. 
A  lady  had  kindly  presented  me  with  a  peck  of  fine 
apples  that  very  morning;  so,  in  lieu  of"  drinks," 
I  distributed  the  fruit  among  them.  They  joked 
and  questioned  me,  and  all  were  merry  save  one 
bilious-looking  individual,  not  dressed,  like  the 
others,  in  an  oysterman's  garb,  but  wearing,  to 
use  a  term  of  the  place,  "  store  clothes." 

After  the  crowd  had  settled  in  the  bar-room, 
at  cards,  &c.,  this  doubting  Thomas  remained 
beside  the  boat,  carefully  examining  her.  Soon 
he  was  scraping  her  hull  below  the  gunwale, 
where  the  muddy  water  of  the  bay  had  left  a 
thin  coat  of  sediment  which  was  now  dry.  The 
man's  countenance  lighted  up  as  he  pulled  the 
bartender  aside  and  said,  "Look  ahere;  didn't 
I  tell  you  that  boat  looked  as  if  she  was  made  to 
carry  on  a  deck  of  a  vessel,  and  to  be  a-shoved  off 
into  the  water  at  night  jest  abreast  of  a  town  to 
make  fools  of  folks,  and  git  them  to  believe  that 
that  fellow  had  a-rowed  all  the  way  ahere? 
Now  see,  here  is  dust,  dry  dust,  on  her  hull. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  137 

She  ahain't  ben  in  the  water  mor'n  ten  minutes, 
I  sware."  It  required  but  a  moment's  investiga- 
tion of  my  Chincoteague  audience  to  discover 
that  the  dust  was  mud  from  the  tide,  and  the 
doubter  brought  down  the  ridicule  of  his  more 
discriminating  neighbors  upon  him,  and  slunk 
away  amid  their  jeers. 

Of  all  this  community  of  watermen  but  one 
could  be  found  that  night  who  had  threaded  the 
interior  watercourses  as  far  as  Cape  Charles,  and 
he  was  the  youngest  of  the  lot.  Taking  out  my 
note-book,  I  jotted  down  his  amusing  directions. 
"  Look  out  for  Cat  Creek  below  Four  Mouths," 
he  said;  "you'll  catch  it  round  there."  :?Yes," 
broke  in  several  voices,  "Cat  Creek's  an  awful 
place  unless  you  run  through  on  a  full  ebb-tide. 
Oyster  boats  always  has  a  time  a-shoving  through 
Cat  Creek,"  &c. 

After  the  council  writh  my  Chincoteague 
friends  had  ended,  the  route  to  be  travelled  the 
next  day  was  in  my  mental  vision  "  as  clear  as 
mud."  The  inhabitants  of  this  island  are  not  all 
oystermen,  for  many  find  occupation  and  profit 
in  raising  ponies  upon  the  beach  of  Assateague, 
where  the  wild,  coarse  grass  furnishes  them  a 
livelihood.  These  hardy  little  animals  are  called 
"Marsh  Tackies,"  and  are  found  at  intervals 
along  the  beaches  down  to  the  sea-islands  of  the 
Carolinas.  They  hold  at  Chincoteague  an  annual 
fair,  to  which  all  the  "  pony-penners,"  as'  they 


138     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

are  called,  bring  their  surplus  animals  to  sell. 
The  average  price  is  about  ninety  dollars  for  a 
good  beast,  though  some  have  sold  for  two  hun- 
dred and  fifty  dollars.  All  these  horses  are  sold 
in  a  semi-wild  and  unbroken  state. 

The  following  morning  Mr.  J.  L.  Caulk,  ex- 
collector  of  the  oyster  port,  and  about  fifty  per- 
sons, escorted  me  to  the  landing,  and  sent  me 
away  with  a  hearty  "  Good  luck  to  ye." 

It  was  three  miles  and  three  quarters  to  the 
southern  end  of  the  island,  which  has  an  inlet 
from  the  ocean  upon  each  side  of  that  end  —  the 
northern  one  being  Assateague,  the  southern  one 
Chincoteague  Inlet.  Fortunately,  I  crossed  the 
latter  in  smooth  water  to  Ballast  Narrows  in 
the  marshes,  and  soon  reached  Four  Mouths, 
where  I  found  five  mouths  of  thoroughfares,  and 
became  perplexed,  for  had  not  the  pilots  of 
Chincoteague  called  this  interesting  display  of 
mouths  "  Four  Mouths"?  I  clung  to  the  authority 
of  local  knowledge,  however,  and  was  soon  in  a 
labyrinth  of  creeks  which  ended  in  the  marshes 
near  the  beach. 

Returning  over  the  course,  I  once  more  faced 
the  four,  or  jive  mouths  rather,  and  taking  a  new 
departure  by  entering  the  next  mouth  to  the  one 
I  had  so  unsatisfactorily  explored,  soon  entered 
Rogue's  Bay,  across  which  could  be  seen  the 
entrance  to  Cat  Creek,  where  I  was  to  expe- 
rience the  difficulties  predicted  by  my  Chinco- 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.      139 

teague  friends.  Cat  Creek  furnished  at  half  tide 
sufficient  water  for  my  canoe,  and  not  the  slight- 
est difficulty  was  experienced  in  getting  through 
it.  The  oystermen  had  in  their  minds  their  own 
sloop-rigged  oyster-boats  when  they  discoursed 
to  me  about  the  hard  passage  of  Cat  Creek. 
They  had  not  considered  the  fact  that  my  craft 
drew  only  five  inches  of  water. 

Cat  Creek  took  me  quite  down  to  the  beach, 
where,  through  an  inlet,  the  dark-blue  ocean, 
sparkling  in  its  white  caps,  came  pleasantly  into 
view.  Another  inlet  was  to  be  crossed,  and 
again  I  was  favored  with  smooth  water.  This 
was  Assawaman  Inlet,  which  divided  the  beach 
into  two  islands  —  Wallops  on  the  north,  and 
Assawaman  on  the  south. 

It  seemed  a  singular  fact  that  the  two  Assa- 
waman bays  are  forty-five  miles  to  the  north  of  an 
inlet  of  the  same  name.  In  following  the  creeks 
through  the  marshes  between  Assawaman  Island 
and  the  mainland,  I  crossed  another  shoal  bay, 
and  another  inlet  opened  in  the  beach,  through 
which  the  ocean  was  again  seen.  This  last  was 
Gargathy  Inlet.  Before  reaching  it,  as  night  was 
coming  on,  I  turned  up  a  thoroughfare  and  rowed 
some  distance  to  the  mainland,  where  I  found 
lodgings  with  a  hospitable  farmer,  Mr.  Martin  R. 
Kelly.  At  daybreak  I  crossed  Gargathy  Inlet. 

It  was  now  Saturday,  November  28;  and  being 
encouraged  by  the  successful  crossing  of  the  "in- 


140  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

lets  in  my  tiny  craft,  I  pushed  on  to  try  the  less 
inviting  one  at  the  end  of  Matomkin  Island. 
Fine  weather  favored  me,  and  I  pushed  across 
the  strong  tide  that  swept  through  this  inlet 
without  shipping  a  sea.  Assawaman  and  Gar- 
gathy  are  constantly  shifting  their  channels.  At 
times  there  will  be  six  feet  of  water,  and  again 
they  will  shoal  to  two  feet.  Matomkin,  also,  is 
not  to  be  relied  on.  Every  northeaster  will  shift 
a  buoy  placed  in  the  channels  of  these  three  in- 
lets, so  they  are  not  buoyed. 

Watchapreague  Inlet,  to  the  south  of  the  three 
last  named,  is  less  changeable  in  character,  and 
is  also  a  much  more  dangerous  inlet  to  cross  in 
rough  weather.  From  Matomkin  Inlet  the  inte- 
rior thoroughfares  were  followed  inside  of  Cedar 
Island,  when  darkness  forced  me  to  seek  shelter 
with  Captain  William  F.  Burton,  whose  comfort- 
able home  was  on  the  shore  of  the  mainland, 
about  five  miles  from  Watchapreague  Inlet. 
Here  I  was  kindly  invited  to  spend  Sunday. 
Captain  Burton  told  me  much  of  interest,  and 
among  other  things  mentioned  the  fact  that  dur- 
ing one  August,  a  few  years  before  my  visit,  a 
large  lobster  was  taken  on  a  fish-hook  in  Watch- 
apreague Inlet,  and  that  a  smaller  one  was  cap- 
tured in  the  same  manner  during  the  summer 
of  1874. 

Monday  was  a  gusty  day.  My  canoe  scraped 
its  keel  upon  the  shoals  as  I  dodged  the  broken 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  14! 

oyster  reefs,  called  here  "  oyster  rocks,"  while  on 
the  passage  down  to  Watchapreague  Inlet.  The 
tide  was  very  low,  but  the  water  deepened  as 
the  beach  was  approached.  A  northeaster  was 
blowing  freshly,  and  I  was  looking  for  a  lee 
under  the  beach,  when  suddenly  the  canoe  shot 
around  a  sandy  point,  and  was  tugging  for  life  in 
the  rough  waters  of  the  inlet.  The  tide  was  run- 
ning in  from  the  sea  with  the  force  of  a  rapid, 
and  the  short,  quick  puffs  of  wind  tossed  the 
waves  wildly.  It  was  useless  to  attempt  to  turn 
the  canoe  back  to  the  beach  in  such  rough  water, 
but,  intent  on  keeping  the  boat  above  the  caps,  I 
gave  her  all  the  momentum  that  muscular  power 
could  exert,  as  she  was  headed  for  the  southern 
point  of  the  beach,  across  the  dangerous  inlet. 

Though  it  was  only  half  a  mile  across,  the 
passage  of  Watchapreague  taxed  me  severely. 
Waves  washed  over  my  canoe,  but  the  gallant 
little  craft  after  each  rebuff  rose  like  a  bird  to 
the  surface  of  the  water,  answering  the  slightest 
touch  of  my  oar  better  than  the  best-trained 
steed.  After  entering  the  south-side  swash,  the 
wind  struck  me  on  the  back,  and  seas  came  tum- 
bling over  and  around  the  boat,  fairly  forcing  me 
on  to  the  beach.  As  we  flew  along,  the  tumult- 
uous waters  made  my  head  swim;  so,  to  pre- 
vent mental  confusion,  I  kept  my  eyes  only  upon 
the  oars,  which,  strange  to  say,  never  betrayed 
me  into  a  false  stroke. 


142  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

As  a  heavy  blast  beat  down  the  raging  sea  for 
a  moment,  I  looked  over  my  shoulder  and  be- 
held the  low,  sandy  dunes  of  the  southern  shore 
of  the  inlet  close  at  hand,  and  with  a  severe  jolt 
the  canoe  grounded  high  on  the  strand.  I 
leaped  out  and  drew  my  precious  craft  away 
from  the  tide,  breathing  a  prayer  of  thankfulness 
for  my  escape  from  danger,  and  mentally  vowing 
that  the  canoe  should  cross  all  other  treacherous 
inlets  in  a  fisherman's  sloop.  I  went  into  camp 
in  a  hollow  of  the  beach,  where  the  sand-hills 
protected  me  from  the  piercing  wind.  All  that 
afternoon  I  watched  from  my  burrow  in  the 
ground  the  raging  of  the  elements,  and  towards 
evening  was  pleased  to  note  a  general  subsidence 
of  wind  and  sea. 

The  canoe  was  again  put  into  the  water  and 
the  thoroughfare  followed  southward  for  a  mile 
or  two,  when  the  short  day  ended,  leaving  me 
beside  a  marshy  island,  which  was  fringed  with 
an  oyster-bed  of  sharp-beaked  bivalves.  Step- 
ping overboard  in  the  mud  and  water,  the  oars 
and  paddle  were  laid  upon  the  shell  reef  to  pro- 
tect the  canoe,  which  was  dragged  on  to  the 
marsh.  It  grew  colder  as  the  wind  died  out. 
The  marsh  was  wet,  and  no  fire-wood  could  be 
found.  The  canvas  cover  was  removed,  the  cargo 
was  piled  up  on  a  platform  of  oars  and  shells  to 
secure  it  from  the  next  tide,  and  then  I  slowly 
and  laboriously  packed  myself  away  in  the  nar- 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  143 

row  shell  for  the  night.  The  canvas  deck-cover 
was  buttoned  in  its  place,  a  rubber  blanket  cov- 
ered the  cockpit,  and  I  tried  to  sleep  and  dream 
that  I  was  not  a  sardine,  nor  securely  confined  in 
some  inhospitable  vault.  It  was  impossible  to 
turn  over  without  unbuttoning  one  side  of  the 
deck-cover  and  going  through  contortions  that 
would  have  done  credit  to  a  first-class  acrobat. 
For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  found  it  necessary 
to  get  out  of  bed  in  order  to  turn  over  in  it. 

At  midnight,  mallards  (Anas  boschas)  came 
close  to  the  marsh.  The  soft  'whagh  of  the 
drake,  which  is  not  in  this  species  blessed  with 
the  loud  quack  of  the  female  bird,  sufficiently 
established  the  identity  of  the  duck.  Then 
muskrats,  and  the  oyster-eating  coon,  came 
round,  no  doubt  scenting  my  provisions.  Brisk 
raps  from  my  knuckles  on  the  inside  shell  of  the 
canoe  astonished  these  animals  and  aroused  their 
curiosity,  for  they  annoyed  me  until  daybreak. 

When  I  emerged  from  my  narrow  bed,  the 
frosty  air  struck  my  cheeks,  and  the  cold,  wet 
marsh  chilled  my  feet.  It  was  the  delay  at 
Watchapreague  Inlet  that  had  lodged  me  on  this 
inhospitable  marsh;  so,  trying  to  exercise  my 
poor  stock  of  patience,  I  completed  my  toilet, 
shaking  in  my  wet  shoes.  The  icy  water,  into 
which  I  stepped  ankle-deep  in  order  to  launch 
my  canoe,  reminded  me  that  this  wintry  morning 
was  in  fact  the  first  day  of  December,  and  that 


144  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

stormy  Hatteras,  south  of  which  was  to  be  found 
a  milder  climate,  was  still  a  long  way  off. 

The  brisk  row  along  Paramore's  Island  (called 
Palmer's  by  the  natives)  to  the  wide,  bay-like 
entrance  of  Little  Machipongo  Inlet,  restored 
warmth  to  my  benumbed  limbs.  This  wide 
doorway  of  the  ocean  permitted  me  to  cross  its 
west  portal  in  peace,  for  the  day  was  calm. 
From  Little  to  Great  Machipongo  Inlet  the 
beach  is  called  Hog  Island.  The  inside  thor- 
oughfare is  bounded  on  the  west  by  Rogue's 
Island,  out  of  the  flats  of  which  rose  a  solitary 
house.  At  the  southern  end  of  Hog  Island 
there  is  a  small  store  on  a  creek,  and  near  the 
beach  a  light-house,  while  a  little  inland  is  lo- 
cated, within  a  forest  of  pines,  a  small  settle- 
ment. 

At  noon,  Great  Machipongo  Inlet  was  crossed 
without  danger,  and  Cobb's  Island  was  skirted 
several  miles  to  Sand  Shoal  Inlet,  near  which 
the  hotel  of  the  three  Cobb  brothers  rose 
cheerfully  out  of  the  dreary  waste  of  sands  and 
marshes.  The  father  of  the  present  proprietors 
came  to  this  island  more  than  thirty  years  ago, 
and  took  possession  of  this  domain,  which  had 
been  thrown  up  by  the  action  of  the  ocean's 
waves.  He  refused  an  offer  of  one  hundred 
thousand  dollars  for  the  island.  The  locality  is 
one  of  the  best  on  this  coast  for  wild-fowl  shoot- 
ing. Sand  Shoal  Inlet,  at  the  southern  end  of 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  145 

Cobb's  Island,  has  a  depth  of  twelve  feet  of 
water  on  its  bar  at  low  tide. 

In  company  with  the  regular  row-boat  ferry  I 
crossed,  the  next  day,  the  broad  bay  to  the  main- 
land eight  miles  distant,  where  the  canoe  was 
put  upon  a  cart  and  taken  across  the  peninsula 
five  miles  to  Cherrystone,  the  only  point  near 
Cape  Charles  at  which  a  Norfolk  steamer  stopped 
for  passengers.  It  was  fully  forty  miles  across 
Chesapeake  Bay  from  Cherrystone  Landing  to 
Norfolk,  and  it  was  imperative  to  make  the  port- 
age from  this  place  instead  of  from  Cape  Charles, 
which,  though  more  than  fifteen  miles  further 
south,  and  nearer  to  my  starting-point  on  the 
other  side,  did  not  possess  facilities  for  transpor- 
tation. The  slow  one-horse  conveyance  arrived 
at  Cherrystone  half  an  hour  after  the  steamer 
N.  P.  Banks  had  left  the  landing,  though  I 
heard  that  the  kind-hearted  captain,  being  told 
I  was  coming,  waited  and  whistled  for  me  till 
his  patience  was  exhausted. 

The  only  house  at  the  head  of  the  pier  was 
owned  by  Mr.  J.  P.  Powers,  and  fortunately 
offered  hotel  accommodations.  Here  I  remained 
until  the  next  trip  of  the  boat,  December  4.  Ar- 
riving in  Norfolk  at  dusk  of  the  same  day,  I 
stored  my  canoe  in 'the-  warehouse  of  the  Old 
Dominion  Steamship  Company,  and  quietly  re- 
tired to  an  hotel  which  promised  an  early  meal 
in  the  morning,  congratulating  myself  the  wrhile 
10 


146  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

that  I  had  avoided  the  usual  show  of  curiosity 
tendered  to  canoeists  at  city  piers,  and  above  all 
had  escaped  the  inevitable  reporter.  Alas!  my 
thankfulness  came  too  soon;  for  when  about  to 
retire,  my  name  was  called,  and  a  veritable 
reporter  from  the  Norfolk  Landmark  cut  off 
my  retreat. 

"  Only  a  few  words,"  he  pleadingly  whis- 
pered. "I've  been  hunting  for  3-0 u  all  over  the 
city  since  seven  o'clock,  and  it  is  near  midnight 
now." 

He  gently  took  my  arm  and  politely  furnished 
me  with  a  chair.  Then  placing  his  own  directly 
before  me,  he  insinuatingly  worked  upon  me 
until  he  derived  a  knowledge  of  the  log  of  the 
Paper  Canoe,  when  leaning  back  in  his  chair  he 
leisurely  surveyed  me  and  exclaimed: 

"  Mr.  Bishop,  you  are  a  man  of  snap.  We 
like  men  of  snap;  we  admire  men  of  snap; 
in  fact,  I  may  say  we  cotton  to  men  of  snap,  and 
I  am  proud  to  make  your  acquaintance.  Now 
if  you  will  stop  over  a  day  we  will  have  the 
whole  city  out  to  see  your  boat." 

This  kind  offer  I  firmly  refused,  and  we  were 
about  to  part,  when  he  said  in  a  softly  rebuking 
manner: 

:?  You  thought,  Mr.  Bishop,  you  would  give  us 
the  slip  —  did  you  not?  I  assure  you  that  would 
be  quite  impossible.  Eternal  Vigilance  is  our 
motto.  No,  you  could  not  escape  us.  Good 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.      147 

evening,  sir,  and  the  '  Landmark's '  welcome  to 
you." 

Six  hours  later,  as  I  entered  the  restaurant  of 
the  hotel  with  my  eyes  half  open,  a  newsboy 
bawled  out  in  the  darkness:  "'Ere's  the  f  Land- 
mark.' Full  account  of  the  Paper  Canoe,"  &c. 
And  before  the  sun  was  up  I  had  read  a  column 
and  a  half  of  "  The  Arrival  of  the  Solitary  Voy- 
ager in  Norfolk."  So  much  for  the  zeal  of  Mr. 
Perkins  of  the  "  Landmark,"  a  worthy  example 
of  American  newspaper  enterprise.  Dreading 
further  attentions,  I  now  prepared  to  beat  a  hasty 
retreat  from  the  city. 


PELAWARE  DRIPPING-POST  AND  PILLORY 


148     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

FROM  NORFOLK  TO  CAPE  HATTERAS. 

THE  ELIZABETH  RIVER.  —  THE  CANAL.  —  NORTH  LANDING  RIVER. 
—  CURRITUCK  SOUND. —  ROANOKE  ISLAND.  —  VISIT  TO  BODY 
ISLAND  LIGHT-HOUSE.  —  A  ROMANCE  OF  HISTORY.  —  PAMPLICO 
SOUND.  —  THE  PAPER  CANOE  ARRIVES  AT  CAPE  HATTERAS. 

ON  Saturday  morning,  December  5,  I  left  the 
pier  of  the  Old  Dominion  Steamship  Com- 
pany, at  Norfolk,  Virginia,  and,  rowing  across  the 
water  towards  Portsmouth,  commenced  ascend- 
ing Elizabeth  River,  which  is  here  wide  and 
affected  by  tidal  change.  The  old  navy  yard, 
with  its  dismantled  hulks  lying  at  anchor  in  the 
stream,  occupies  both  banks  of  the  river.  About 
six  miles  from  Norfolk  the  entrance  to  the  Dis- 
mal Swamp  Canal  is  reached,  on  the  left  bank 
of  the  river.  This  old  canal  runs  through  the 
Great  Dismal  Swamp,  and  affords  passage  for 
steamers  and  light-draught  vessels  to  Elizabeth 
City,  on  the  Pasquotank  River,  which  empties 
into  Albemarle  Sound  to  the  southward.  The 
great  cypress  and  juniper  timber  is  penetrated  by 
this  canal,  and  schooners  are  towed  into  the 


V    I    H    «-•    1    N    ]    A 


'"'T^flr 


MARIA   THER  E  SA 

V<>/y<'»/A-  !</./<>  /A >»/?»<•  /nlt 

Kll,>»r.t  /-.-.V /////>-/!,./, 


.«,,,... 
: 

••    -  • 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  149 

swamp  to  landings  where  their  cargoes  are  de- 
livered. 

In  the  interior  of  the  Dismal  Swamp  is  Drum- 
mond's  Lake,  named  after  its  discoverer.  It  is 
seven  miles  long  by  five  miles  wide,  and  is  the 
feeder  of  the  canal.  A  branch  canal  connects  it 
with  the  main  canal;  and  small  vessels  may 
traverse  the  lake  in  search  of  timber  and  shingles. 
Voyagers  tell  me  that  during  heavy  gales  of 
wind  a  terrible  sea  is  set  in  motion  upon  this 
shoal  sheet  of  water,  making  it  dangerous  to 
navigate.  Bears  are  found  in  the  fastnesses  of 
the  swamp.  The  Dismal  Swamp  Canal  was  dug 
in  the  old  days  of  the  wheelbarrow  and  spade. 

The  Albemarle  and  Chesapeake  Canal,  the  en- 
trance to  which  is  sixteen  miles  from  Norfolk, 
on  the  right  or  east  bank  of  the  Elizabeth  River, 
and  generally  known  as  the  "  new  canal,"  was 
commenced  about  the  year  1856,  and  finished  in 
1859.  It  is  eight  miles  and  a  half  in  length, 
and  connects  the  Elizabeth  and  North  Landing 
rivers.  This  canal  w7as  dug  by  dredging-ma- 
chines.  It  is  kept  in  a  much  better  state  foi 
navigation,  so  far  as  the  depth  of  water  is  con- 
cerned, than  the  old  canal,  which  from  inatten- 
tion is  gradually  shoaling  in  places;  consequently 
the  regular  steam-packets  which  ply  between 
Elizabeth  City  and  Norfolk,  as  well  as  steamers 
whose  destinations  are  further  north,  have  given 
up  the  use  of  the  Dismal  Swamp  Canal,  and 


150     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

now  go  round  through  Albemarle  Sound  up  the 
North  River,  thence  by  a  six-mile  cut  into  Cur- 
rituck  Sound,  up  North  Landing  River,  and 
through  the  new  canal  to  the  Elizabeth  River 
and  into  Chesapeake  Bay.  The  shores  of  the 
Elizabeth  are  low  and  are  fringed  by  sedgy 
marshes,  while  forests  of  second-growth  pine 
present  a  green  background  to  the  eye.  A  few 
miles  above  Norfolk  the  cultivation  of  land 
ceases,  and  the  canoeist  traverses  a  wilderness. 

About  noon  I  arrived  at  the  locks  of  the  Albe- 
marle and  Chesapeake  Canal.  The  telegraph 
operator  greeted  me  with  the  news  that  the  com- 
pany's agent  in  Norfolk  had  telegraphed  to  the 
lock-master  to  pass  the  paper  canoe  through  with 
the  freedom  of  the  canal  —  the  first  honor  of  the 
kind  that  had  fallen  to  my  lot.  The  tide  rises 
and  falls  at  the  locks  in  the  river  about  three  feet 
and  a  half.  When  I  passed  through,  the  differ- 
ence in  the  level  between  the  ends  of  the  locks 
did  not  reach  two  feet.  The  old  lock-master 
urged  me  to  give  up  the  journey  at  once,  as  I 
never  could  "  get  through  the  Sounds  with  that 
little  boat."  When  I  told  him  I  was  on  my 
second  thousand  miles  of  canoe  navigation  since 
leaving  Quebec,  he  drew  a  long  breath  and 
gave  a  low  groan. 

When  once  through  the  canal-gates,  you  are 
in  a  heavy  cypress  swamp.  The  dredgings 
thrown  upon  the  banks  have  raised  the  edge  of 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.      151 

the  swamp  to  seven  feet  above  the  water.  Little 
pines  grow  along  these  shores,  and  among  them 
the  small  birds,  now  on  their  southern  migrations, 
sported  and  sang.  Whenever  a  steamer  or  tug- 
boat passed  me,  it  crowded  the  canoe  close  to 
the  bank;  but  these  vessels  travel  along  the 
canal  at  so  slow  a  rate,  that  no  trouble  is  experi- 
enced by  the  canoeist  from  the  disturbance 
caused  by  their  revolving  screws.  Freedmen, 
poling  flats  loaded  with  shingles  or  frame  stuff, 
roared  out  their  merry  songs  as  they  passed. 
The  canal  entered  the  North  Landing  River 
without  any  lockage;  just  beyond  was  North 
Landing,  from  which  the  river  takes  its  name. 
A  store  and  evidences  of  a  settlement  meet  the 
eye  at  a  little  distance.  The  river  is  tortuous, 
and  soon  leaves  the  swamp  behind.  The  pine 
forest  is  succeeded  by  marshes  on  both  sides  of 
the  slow-flowing  current. 

Three  miles  from  North  Landing  a  single 
miniature  house  is  seen;  then  for  nearly  five 
miles  along  the  river  not  a  trace  of  the  presence 
of  man  is  to  be  met,  until  Pungo  Ferry  and  Land- 
ing loom  up  out  of  the  low  marshes  on  the  east 
side  of  the  river.  This  ferry,  with  a  store  three- 
quarters  of  a  mile  from  the  landing,  and  a  farm 
of  nearly  two  hundred  acres,  is  the  property  of 
Mr.  Charles  N.  Dudley,  a  southern  gentleman, 
who  offers  every  inducement  in  his  power  to 
northern  men  to  settle  in  his  vicinity.  Many  of 


152      VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

the  property-holders  in  the  uplands  are  willing 
to  sell  portions  of  their  estates  to  induce  north- 
ern men  to  come  among  them. 

It  was  almost  dark  when  I  reached  the  store- 
house at  Pungo  Ferry;  and  as  Sunday  is  a  sacred 
day  with  me,  I  determined  to  camp  there  until 
Monday.  A  deformed  negro  held  a  lease  of  the 
ferry,  and  pulled  a  flat  back  and  forth  across 
the  river  by  means  of  a  chain  and  windlass.  He 
was  very  civil,  and  placed  his  quarters  at  my  dis- 
posal until  I  should  be  ready  to  start  southward 
to  Currituck  Sound.  We  lifted  the  canoe  and 
pushed  it  through  an  open  window  into  the  little 
store-room,  where  it  rested  upon  an  unoccupied 
counter.  The  negro  went  up  to  the  loft  above, 
and  threw  down  two  large  bundles  of  flags  for  a 
bed,  upon  which  I  spread  my  blankets.  An  old 
stove  in  a  corner  was  soon  aglow  with  burning 
light  wood.  While  I  was  cooking  my  supper, 
the  little  propeller  Cygnet,  which  runs  between 
Norfolk  and  Van  Slyck's  Landing,  at  Currituck 
Narrows,  touched  at  Pungo  Ferry,  and  put  off 
an  old  woman  wrho  had  been  on  a  two  years' 
visit  to  her  relatives.  She  kindly  accosted  the 
dwarfed  black  with,  "  Charles,  have  you  got  a 
match  for  my  pipe?" 

rtYes,  missus,"  civilly  responded  the  negro, 
handing  her  a  light. 

"  Well,  this  is  good!  "  soliloquized  the  ancient 
dame,  as  she  seated  herself  on  a  box  and  puffed 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  153 

away  at  the  short-stemmed  pipe.  "  Ah,  good 
indeed  to  get  away  from  city  folks,  with  their 
stuck-up  manners  and  queer  ways,  a-fau  It-fin  ding 
when  you  stick  your  knife  in  your  mouth  in 
place  of  your  fork,  and  a-feeding  you  on  China 
tea  in  place  of  dear  old  yaupon.  Charles,  you 
can't  reckon  how  I  longs  to  get  a  cup  of  good 
yaupon." 

As  the  reader  is  about  entering  a  country 
where  the  laboring  classes  draw  largely  upon 
nature  for  their  supply  of  "the  cup  that  cheers 
but  not  inebriates,"  I  will  describe  the  shrub 
which  produces  it. 

This  substitute  for  the  tea  of  China  is  a  holly 
(ilex},  and  is  called  by  the  natives  "yaupon" 
(/.  cassine,  Linn.}.  It  is  a  handsome  shrub, 
growing  a  few  feet  in  height,  with  alternate,  per- 
ennial, shining  leaves,  and  bearing  small  scarlet 
berries.  It  is  found  in  the  vicinity  of  salt  water, 
in  the  light  soils  of  Virginia  and  the  Carolinas. 
The  leaves  and  twigs  are  dried  by  the  women, 
and  when  ready  for  market  are  sold  at  one  dollar 
per  bushel.  It  is  not  to  be  compared  in  excel- 
lence with  the  tea  of  China,  nor  does  it  approach 
in  taste  or  good  qualities  the  well-known  yerba- 
mate,  another  species  of  holly,  which  is  found 
in  Paraguay,  and  is  the  common  drink  of  the 
people  of  South  America. 

The  old  woman  having  gone  on  her  way,  and 
we  being  again  alone  in  the  rude  little  shanty, 


154  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

I 

the  good-natured  freedman  told  me  his  history, 
ending  with, — 

"  O  that  was  a  glorious  day  for  me, 
When  Massa  Lincoln  set  me  free." 

He  had  too  much  ambition,  he  said,  deformed  as 
he  was,  to  be  supported  as  a  pauper  by  the  pub- 
lic. "  I  can  make  just  about  twelve  dollars  a 
month  by  dis  here  ferry,"  he  exclaimed.  "  I 
don't  want  for  nuffin';  I'se  got  no  wife  —  no 
woman  will  hab  me.  I  want  to  support  myself 
and  live  an  honest  man." 

About  seven  o'clock  he  left  me  to  waddle  up 
the  road  nearly  a  mile  to  a  little  house. 

"  I  an'  another  cullo'd  man  live  in  partner- 
ship," he  said.  He  could  not  account  for  the 
fact  that  I  had  no  fear  of  sleeping  alone  in  the 
shanty  on  the  marshes.  He  went  home  for  the 
company  of  his  partner,  as  he  "  didn't  like  to 
sleep  alone  noways." 

Though  the  cold  wind  entered  through  broken 
window-lights  and  under  the  rudely  constructed 
door,  I  slept  comfortably  until  morning.  Before 
Charles  had  returned,  my  breakfast  was  cooked 
and  eaten. 

With  the  sunshine  of  the  morning  came  a 
new  visitor.  I  had  made  the  acquaintance  of 
the  late  slave;  now  I  received  a  call  from  the 
late  master.  My  visitor  was  a  pleasant,  gentle- 
manly personage,  the  owner  of  the  surrounding 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  155 

acres.  His  large  white  house  could  be  seen 
from  the  landing,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  up  the 
road. 

"  I  learned  that  a  stranger  from  the  north  was 
camped  here,  and  was  expecting  that  he  would 
come  up  and  take  breakfast  with  me,"  was  his 
kindly  way  of  introducing  himself. 

I  told  him  I  was  comfortably  established  in 
dry  quarters,  and  did  not  feel  justified  in  for- 
cing myself  upon  his  hospitality  while  I  had  so 
many  good  things  of  this  life  in  my  provision- 
basket. 

Mr.  Dudley  would  take  no  excuse,  but  con- 
ducted me  to  his  house,  where  I  remained  that 
day,  attending  the  religious  services  in  a  little 
church  in  the  vicinity.  My  kind  host  introduced 
me  to  his  neighbors,  several  of  whom  returned 
with  us  to  dinner.  I  found  the  people  about 
Pungo  Ferry,  like  those  I  had  met  along  the 
sounds  of  the  eastern  shore  of  Maryland  and 
Virginia,  very  piously  inclined,  —  the  same  kind- 
hearted,  hospitable  people. 

My  host  entertained  me  the  next  day,  which 
was  rainy,  with  his  life  in  the  Confederate  army, 
in  which  he  served  as  a  lieutenant.  He  was  a 
prisoner  at  Johnson's  Island  for  twenty-two 
months.  He  bore  no  malice  towards  northern 
men  who  came  south  to  join  with  the  natives  in 
working  for  the  true  interests  of  the  country. 
The  people  of  the  south  had  become  weary  of 


156  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

political  sufferings  inflicted  by  a  floating  popula- 
tion from  the  north;  they  needed  actual  settlers, 
not  politicians.  This  sentiment  I  found  every- 
where expressed.  On  Tuesday  I  bade  farewell 
to  my  new  friends,  and  rowed  down  the  North 
Landing  River  towards  Currituck  Sound. 

The  North  Carolina  line  is  only  a  few  miles 
south  of  the  ferry.  The  river  enters  the  head 
of  the  sound  six  or  eight  miles  below  Pungo 
Ferry.  A  stiff  northerly  breeze  was  blowing, 
and  as  the  river  widened,  on  reaching  the  head 
of  the  sound,  to  a  mile  or  more,  and  bays  were 
to  be  crossed  from  point  to  point,  it  required 
the  exercise  of  considerable  patience  and  mus- 
cular exertion  to  keep  the  sea  from  boarding 
the  little  craft  amidship.  As  I  was  endeavoring 
to  weather  a  point,  the  swivel  of  one  of  the  out- 
riggers parted  at  its  junction  with  the  row-lock, 
and  it  became  necessary  to  get  under  the  south 
point  of  the  marshes  for  shelter. 

The  lee  side  offered  a  smooth  bay.  It  was 
but  a  few  minutes'  work  to  unload  and  haul  the 
canoe  into  the  tall  rushes,  which  afforded  ample 
protection  against  the  cold  wind.  It  was  three 
hours  before  the  wind  went  down,  when  the 
canoe  was  launched,  and,  propelled  by  the  double 
paddle,  (always  kept  in  reserve  against  accidents 
to  oars  and  row-locks,)  I  continued  over  the 
waters  of  Currituck  Sound. 

Swans  could  now  be  seen  in  flocks  of  twenties 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  157 

and  fifties.  They  were  exceedingly  wary,  not 
permitting  the  canoe  to  approach  within  rifle 
range.  Clouds  of  ducks,  and  some  Canada 
geese,  as  well  as  brant,  kept  up  a  continuous 
flutter  as  they  rose  from  the  surface  of  the  water. 
Away  to  the  southeast  extended  the  glimmering 
bosom  of  the  sound,  with  a  few  islands  relieving 
its  monotony.  The  three  or  four  houses  and  two 
small  storehouses  at  the  landing  of  Currituck 
Court  House,  which,  with  the  brick  court-house, 
comprise  the  whole  village,  are  situated  on  the 
west  bank;  and  opposite,  eight  miles  to  the  east- 
ward, is  the  narrow  beach  island  that  serves  as 
a  barrier  to  the  ingress  of  the  ocean. 

At  sunset  I  started  the  last  flock  of  white 
swans,  and  grounded  in  the  shoal  waters  at  the 
landing.  There  is  no  regular  hotel  here,  but  a 
kind  lady,  Mrs.  Simmons,  accommodates  the 
necessities  of  the  occasional  traveller.  The  ca- 
noe was  soon  locked  up  in  the  landing-house. 
Fortunately  a  blacksmith  was  found  outside  the 
village,  who  promised  to  repair  the  broken  row- 
lock early  upon  the  following  morning.  Before 
a  pleasant  wood  fire  giving  out  its  heat  from  a 
grand  old  fireplace,  with  an  agreeable  visitor, — 
the  physician  of  the  place,  —  the  tediousness  of 
the  three-hours'  camp  on  the  marshes  was  soon 
forgotten,  while  the  country  and  its  resources 
were  fully  discussed  until  a  late  hour. 

Dr.  Baxter  had  experimented  in  grape  culture, 


158     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

and  gave  me  many  interesting  details  in  regard 
to  the  native  wine.  In  1714,  Lawson  described 
six  varieties  of  native  grapes  found  in  North 
Carolina.  Our  three  finest  varieties  of  native 
grapes  were  taken  from  North  Carolina.  They 
are  the  Scuppernong,  the  Catawba,  and  the  Isa- 
bella. The  Scuppernong  was  found  upon  the 
banks  of  the  stream  bearing  that  name,  the 
mouth  of  which  is  near  the  eastern  end  of  Albe- 
marle  Sound.  The  Catawba  was  originally  ob- 
tained on  the  Catawba  River,  near  its  head-waters 
in  Buncombe  County.  The  Long  Island  stock 
of  the  Isabella  grape  was  brought  to  New  York 
by  Mrs.  Isabella  Gibbs:  hence  the  derivation  of 
the  name. 

Of  the  six  varieties  of  North  Carolina  grapes, 
five  wrere  found  in  Tyrrel  County  by  Amadas 
and  Barlow.  Tradition  relates  that  these  trav- 
ellers carried  one  small  vine  to  Roanoke  Island, 
which  still  lives  and  covers  an  immense  area  of 
ground.  There  are  five  varieties  of  the  grape 
growing  wild  on  the  shores  of  Albemarle  Sound, 
all  of  which  are  called  Scuppernong,  —  the  legit- 
imate Scuppernong  being  a  white  grape,  sweet 
and  large,  and  producing  a  wine  said  to  resemble 
somewhat  in  its  luscious  flavor  the  Malmsey 
made  on  Mount  Ida,  in  Candia. 

The  repairing  of  the  outrigger  detained  me 
until  nearly  noon  of  the  next  day,  when  the 
canoe  was  got  under  way;  but  upon  rowing  off 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  159 

the  mouth  of  Coanjock  Bay,  only  four  miles  from 
Currituck  Court  House,  a  strong  tempest  arose 
from  the  south,  and  observing  an  old  gentle- 
man standing  upon  Bell  Island  Point,  near  his 
cottage,  beckoning  me  to  come  ashore,  I  obeyed, 
and  took  refuge  with  my  new  acquaintance,  Cap- 
tain Peter  L.  Tatum,  proprietor  of  Bell  Island. 

"  The  war  has  left  us  without  servants,"  said 
the  captain,  as  he  presented  me  to  his  wife,  "  so 
we  make  the  best  of  it,  and  if  you  will  accept 
our  hospitality  we  will  make  you  comfortable." 

Captain  Tatum  drew  my  attention  to  the  flocks 
of  swans  which  dotted  the  waters  in  the  offing, 
and  said:  "  It  is  hard  work  to  get  hold  of  a  swan, 
though  they  are  a  large  bird,  and  abundant  in 
Currituck  Sound.  You  must  use  a  good  rifle 
to  bring  one  down.  After  a  strong  norther  has 
been  blowing,  and  the  birds  have  worked  well 
into  the  bight  of  the  bay,  near  Goose  Castle  Point, 
if  the  wind  shifts  to  the  south  suddenly,  gunners 
approach  from  the  outside,  and  the  birds  becom- 
ing cramped  in  the  cove  are  shot  as  they  rise 
against  the  wind." 

More  than  forty  years  ago  old  Currituck  Inlet 
closed,  and  the  oysters  on  the  natural  beds,  which 
extended  up  North  Landing  River  to  Green 
Point,  were  killed  by  the  freshening  of  the 
water.  Now  winds  influence  the  tides  which 
enter  at  Oregon  Inlet,  about  fifty-five  miles 
south  of  the  Court  House.  The  difference  be- 


l6o  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

tween  the  highest  and  lowest  tide  at  Currituck 
Court  House  is  three  feet.  The  sound  is  filled 
with  sandy  shoals,  with  here  and  there  spots  of 
mud.  The  shells  of  the  defunct  oysters  are 
everywhere  found  mixed  with  the  debris  of  the 
bottom  of  the  sound.  This  is  a  favorite  locality 
with  northern  sportsmen.  The  best  "gunning 
points,"  as  is  the  case  in  Chesapeake  Bay,  are 
owned  by  private  parties,  and  cannot  be  used 
by  the  public. 

Thursday,  the  loth  of  December,  was  cold, 
and  proved  as  tempestuous  as  the  previous  day; 
but  the  wind  had  changed  to  the  north,  and  I 
embarked  amid  a  swashy  beam-sea,  with  the 
hope  of  reaching  Van  Slyck's  Landing  at  Cur- 
rituck Narrows.  The  norther,  however,  proved 
too  much  for  my  safety.  My  course  would  be 
easterly  until  I  had  passed  the  mouth  of  Coan- 
jock  Bay  and  Goose  Castle  Point,  then  following 
the  trend  of  the  west  shore  southerly  down  the 
sound;  but  the  wind  raised  such  a  rough  sea 
that  I  was  obliged  to  turn  southward  into  Coan- 
jock  Bay,  ascend  it  five  miles,  and  seek  for  a 
crossing-place  overland  to  the  sound  again, 
which  I  found  near  the  entrance  of  the  lock- 
less  canal  that  is  used  by  steamers  to  pass  from 
North  Landing  River  to  North  River  and  Albe- 
marle  Sound. 

A  fire  was  soon  built,  upon  which  I  placed 
long,  light  poles  taken  from  the  drift-wood,  and 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  l6l 

burning  them  in  pieces  of  the  required  lengths, 
(no  axe  being  at  hand,)  I  was  prepared  to  make 
the  portage.  Laying  these  pieces  of  wood  on 
the  ground,  I  drew  my  canoe  over  them  to  the 
shore  of  Currituck  Sound;  then,  by  making  up 
back-loads  of  the  cargo,  transported  everything 
to  the  point  of  embarkation,  which  was  just 
inside  the  mouth  of  a  little  creek. 

The  row  to  Currituck  Narrows  was  not  diffi- 
cult, as  the  north  wind  was  a  fair  one.  Along 
the  west  shore  of  the  sound  there  were  many 
little  houses  upon  the  high  banks,  and  a  wind- 
mill supplied  the  place  of  a  water-power  for 
grinding  corn.  The  improvements  made  by  Mr. 
Van  Slyck,  of  New  York,  were  in  cheering  con- 
trast to  what  had  been  seen  since  leaving  Nor- 
folk. Here  a  comfortable  hotel  welcomes  the 
northern  sportsmen,  few  of  whom,  for  lack  of 
accommodations  and  travelling  conveniences,  go 
much  south  of  this  locality,  in  this  state,  to  shoot 
wild-fowl.  Currituck  Sound  has  an  average 
width  of  four  miles.  Its  length  is  about  thirty- 
five  miles.  At  the  Narrows,  a  group  of  marshy 
islands  divides  it  into  two  sections,  the  northern 
one  being  the  longest. 

The  keen,  cold  air  of  the  next  day  made  row- 
ing a  pleasant  exercise.  After  passing  through 
the  tortuous  channel,  I  should  have  crossed  to  the 
beach  and  followed  it;  but  this  part  of  the  bay 
is  very  shallow,  and  deeper  water  was  found  on 
ii 


1 62  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

the  west  side.  It  was  an  enjoyable  morning, 
for  gunners  were  passed,  secreted  behind  their 
"  blinds,"  or  pens,  of  pine  brush,  which  looked  like 
little  groves  of  conifera  growing  out  of  the  shoal 
water.  Geese  were  honking  and  ducks  were 
quacking,  while  the  deep  booming  of  guns  was 
heard  every  few  minutes.  Decoy-birds  were 
anchored  in  many  places  near  the  marshes. 
Every  sportsman  gave  me  a  cheering  word  as 
the  canoe  glided  over  the  smooth  water,  while 
here  and  there  the  violet-backed  swallow  dart- 
ed about  over  the  marshes  as  though  it  wrere 
summer. 

When  opposite  Dew's  Quarter  Island,  several 
men  hailed  me  from  a  newly  constructed  shanty. 
When  the  oldest  man  in  the  company,  who  had 
never  seen  a  shell  like  the  paper  canoe,  had  ex- 
amined it,  he  shook  his  head  ominously;  and 
when  I  told  him  Nag's  Head  must  be  reached 
that  day,  he  grew  excited,  exclaiming,  "Then  be 
off  now!  now  I  Git  across  the  bay  under  Bald 
Beach  as  soon  as  ye  can,  and  hug  the  shore,  hug 
it  well  clean  down  to  Collington's,  and  git  across 
the  sound  afore  the  wind  rises.  Sich  a  boat  as 
that  aren't  fit  for  these  here  waters." 

Taking  this  kindly  meant  advice,  I  pulled  to 
the  east  side,  where  there  was  now  a  good  depth 
of  water  for  the  canoe.  On  this  high  beach  the 
hills  were  well  covered  with  yellow  pines,  many 
of  which  were  noble  old  trees.  On  a  narrow 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  163 

point  of  the  shore  was  the  comfortable  house  of 
Hodges  Gallup,  the  Baptist  minister,  a  generous 
old  gentleman,  who  seemed  to  be  loved  by  all 
the  watermen  along  the  sound.  He  was  de- 
scribed as  being  "  full  of  fun  and  hospitality." 
His  domain  extended  for  several  miles  along 
the  beach,  and,  with  deer  quietly  browsing  in  his 
grand  old  woods,  formed  a  pretty  picture. 

The  beach  shore  now  became  more  thickly 
settled,  while  out  in  the  water,  a  few  rods  from 
each  little  house,  arose  the  duck-blind,  with  the 
gunner  and  his  boat  inside,  anxiously  watching 
for  birds,  while  their  decoys  floated  quietly  on 
the  surface  of  the  water.  A  few  miles  below 
Mr.  Gallup's  estate  the  canoe  entered  upon  the 
broad  waters  of  Albemarle  Sound,  and  at  dusk  I 
approached  Roanoke  Island.  The  large  build- 
ings of  the  hotels  of  Nag's  Head  on  the  beach 
rose  up  as  boldly  to  the  eye  as  a  fortification. 
The  little  sound  between  Roanoke  Island  and 
the  beach  was  traversed  at  dusk  as  far  as  the  first 
long  pier  of  Nag's  Head,  upon  which  with  great 
difficulty  I  landed,  and  was  soon  joined  by  the 
keeper  of  the  now  deserted  summer  watering- 
place,  Mr.  C.  D.  Rutter,  who  helped  me  to  carry 
my  property  into  a  room  of  the  old  hotel. 

Nag's  Head  Beach  is  a  most  desolate  locality, 
with  its  high  sand-hills,  composed  of  fine  sand, 
the  forms  of  which  are  constantly  changing  with 
the  action  of  the  dry,  hard,  varying  winds.  A 


164     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

new  and  very  large  hotel  was  located  south  of 
the  first  one,  and  was  inhabited  by  the  family  of 
Captain  Jasper  Toler,  who  furnished  me  with 
lodgings.  A  few  fishermen  have  their  homes  on 
this  dreary  beach,  but  the  village,  with  its  one 
store,  is  a  forlorn  place. 

The  bright  flashes  of  Body  Island  Light,  ten 
miles  distant,  on  the  north  side  of  Oregon  Inlet, 
showed  me  my  next  abiding-place. 

The  beach  from  Nag's  Head  to  Oregon  Inlet 
is  destitute  of  trees,  and  the  wind  sweeps  across 
it,  from  the  ocean  to  the  sound,  with  great  vio- 
lence, forcing  the  shallow  waters  to  retire,  and 
leaving  the  bottom  dry  as  far  out  as  three  miles. 

The  next  clay  was  very  windy,  and  the  long, 
finger-like,  sandy  shoals,  which  extended  one  or 
two  miles  out  into  the  sound,  were  covered  with 
only  from  three  to  eight  inches  of  water.  I  could 
not  hug  the  beach  for  protection,  but  was  forced 
to  keep  far  out  in  the  sound.  Frequently  it  be- 
came necessary  to  get  overboard  and  wade,  push- 
ing my  boat  before  me.  Then  a  deep  channel 
between  the  shoals  would  be  crossed;  so,  by 
•walking  and  rowing  in  Roanoke  Sound,  with 
the  wind  blowing  the  water  over  the  canoe  and 
drenching  its  captain,  the  roundabout  twelve 
miles'  passage  to  Oregon  Inletwas  at  last  accom- 
plished, and  a  most  trying  one  it  was. 

Body  Island  Light  House  was  erected  in  1872, 
on  the  north  side  of  Oregon  Inlet,  to  take  the 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  165 

place  of  the  old  tower  on  the  south  shore.  It  is 
in  latitude  35°  48',  and  longitude  75°  33'.  Cap- 
tain William  F.  Hatzel,  a  loyal  North  Carolinian, 
is  the  principal  keeper,  and  a  most  efficient  one 
he  is. 

The  temperature  was  falling  rapidly  when  1 
crawled  into  the  high  rushes  of  the  wet  marsh 
near  the  light-house  to  seek  shelter  from  the 
strong  wind  that  was  blowing.  As  this  treeless 
beach  was  destitute  of  fire-wood,  or  natural  shel- 
ter of  any  kind,  necessity  compelled  me  to  have 
recourse  to  other  means  for  procuring  them.  I 
carried  in  my  pocket  a  talisman  which  must 
open  any  light-keeper's  door;  from  Maine  to  the 
Rio  Grande,  from  Southern  California  to  Alaska, 
even  to  the  vicinity  of  the  Arctic  Circle,  wher- 
ever the  Light-house  Establishment  of  the  United 
States  has  planted  a  tower  or  erected  a  light. 
While  shivering  in  wet  clothes  on  this  desolate 
beach,  most  thankfully  did  I  remember  that  kind 
and  thoughtful  friend,  who  through  his  potent 
influence  had  supplied  me  with  this  open  sesame 
to  light-keepers. 

There  resides  in  Washington,  when  not  en- 
gaged elsewhere  in  the  important  duties  of  the 
Commission  of  Fisheries,  a  genial  gentleman,  an 
ardent  naturalist,  a  great  scientist.  To  him  the 
young  naturalists  of  America  turn  for  information 
and  advice,  and  to  the  humblest  applicant  Pro- 
fessor Spencer  F.  Baird  never  turns  a  deaf  ear. 


1 66  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

How  this  distinguished  author  can  attend  to  so 
many  and  such  varied  duties  with  his  laborious 
investigations,  and  can  so  successfully  keep  up  a 
large  correspondence  with  perhaps  one  thousand 
scientific  associations  of  nearly  every  nation  of 
the  universe,  is  a  difficult  thing  to  imagine;  but 
the  popular  and  much  beloved  Assistant  Secre- 
tary of  the  Smithsonian  Institution,  seemingly 
ubiquitous  in  his  busy  life,  does  all  this  and  much 
more.  America  may  well  feel  proud  of  this  man 
of  noble  nature,  shedding  light  and  truth  where- 
soever he  moves,  encouraging  alike  old  and 
young  with  his  kindly  sympathy;  —  now  taking 
his  precious  moments  to  answer  with  his  own 
busy  hand  the  question  in  the  letter  of  some  boy 
naturalist  about  beasts,  birds,  reptiles,  or  fishes, 
with  which  epistles  his  desk  is  always  covered; 
now  stimulating  to  further  effort  the  old  man  of 
science  as  he  struggles  with  the  cares  of  this 
world,  striving,  sometimes  vainly,  save  for  this 
ever  ready  aid,  to  work  out  patiently  theories 
which  are  soon  to  blaze  forth  as  substantial  facts. 
The  young  generation  of  naturalists,  which  is 
soon  to  fill  the  place  of  their  predecessors,  have 
in  this  man  the  type  of  all  they  need  ever  strive 
to  attain.  How  many,  alas,  will  fall  far  short 
of  it! 

Since  boyhood  the  counsels  of  this  friend  had 
guided  me  on  many  a  journey  of  exploration. 
He  had  not  deserted  me  even  in  this  experiment, 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  I 67 

which  my  friends  called  "your  wildest  and  most 
foolish  undertaking."  He  had  obtained  from  the 
Light  House  Board  a  general  letter  to  the  light- 
keepers  of  the  United  States,  signed  by  the 
naval  secretary,  Mr.  Walker,  in  which  the  keep- 
ers were  authorized  to  grant  me  shelter,  &c., 
when  necessary.  I  did  not  have  occasion  to  use 
this  letter  more  than  twice  during  my  journey. 
Having  secreted  my  canoe  in  the  coarse  grass 
of  the  lowland,  I  trudged,  with  my  letter  in  hand, 
over  the  sands  to  the  house  of  the  light-keeper, 
Captain  Hatzel,  who  received  me  cordially;  and 
after  recording  in  his  log-book  the  circumstances 
and  date  of  my  arrival,  conducted  me  into  a 
comfortable  room,  which  was  warmed  by  a 
cheerful  fire,  and  lighted  up  by  the  smiles  of  his 
most  orderly  wife.  Everything  showed  disci- 
pline and  neatness,  both  in  the  house  and  the 
light-tower.  The  whitest  of  cloths  was  spread 
upon  the  table,  and  covered  with  a  well-cooked 
meal;  then  the  father,  mother,  and  two  sons, 
with  the  stranger  within  their  gates,  thanked  the 
Giver  of  good  gifts  for  his  mercies. 

Joining  the  night-watch  of  the  chief  light- 
keeper,  I  also  joined  in  the  good  man's  enthusi- 
asm for  his  wonderful  "  fixed  white  light,"  the 
bright  beams  of  which  poured  out  upon  the  sur- 
rounding waters  a  flood  of  brilliancy,  gladdening 
hearts  far  out  at  sea,  even  though  twenty  miles 
away,  and  plainly  saying,  "  This  is  Body  Island 


1 68     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

Beach:  keep  off!  "  How  grand  it  was  to  walk 
out  on  this  gallery  in  the  sky!  Looking  east- 
ward, a  limitless  expanse  of  ocean;  gazing  west- 
ward, the  waters  of  the  great  sound,  the  shores 
of  which  were  low  marshes  miles  away.  Below 
me  could  be  heard  the  soft  cackle  of  the  snow- 
goose  (Anser  hyperboreus),  which  had  left  its 
nesting-place  on  the  barren  grounds  of  arctic 
America,  and  was  now  feeding  contentedly  in  its 
winter  home  in  the  shallow  salt-ponds;  while  the 
gentle  shur— r-r-  of  the  waves  softly  broke  on 
the  strand.  Above,  the  star-lit  heavens,  whose 
tender  beauty  seemed  almost  within  my  grasp. 

Perched  thus  upon  a  single  shaft,  on  a  narrow 
strip  of  sand  far  out  in  the  great  water,  the  many 
thoughts  born  of  solitude  crowded  my  mind, 
when  my  reverie  was  abruptly  broken  by  an 
exclamation  from  Captain  Hatzel,  who  threw 
open  the  door,  and  exclaimed,  with  beaming 
eyes  peering  into  the  darkness  as  he  spoke,  "  I 
see  it!  Yes,  it  is!  Hatteras  Light,  thirty-five 
miles  away.  This  night,  December  I3th,  is  the 
first  time  I  have  caught  its  flash.  Tell  it  to  the 
Hatteras  keeper  when  you  visit  the  cape." 

From  Captain  Hatzel  I  gleaned  some  facts  of 
deep  interest  in  regard  to  the  inhabitants  of  the 
sound.  Some  of  them,  he  told  me,  had  Indian 
blood  in  their  veins;  and  to  prove  the  truth  of  his 
assertion  he  handed  me  a  well-worn  copy  of  the 
"  History  of  North  Carolina,"  by  Dr.  Francis  L. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  169 

Hawks,  D.  D.  From  this  I  obtained  facts  which 
might  serve  for  the  intricate  mazes  of  a  romance. 

It  had  been  a  pet  scheme  with  Sir  Walter  Ra- 
leigh to  colonize  the  coast  of  North  Carolina, 
then  known  as  Virginia,  and  though  several  ex- 
peditions had  been  sent  out  for  that  object,  each 
had  failed  of  successful  issue.  One  of  these 
expeditions  sent  by  Sir  Walter  to  Roanoke  Is- 
land consisted  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-one 
persons,  of  whom  seventeen  were  women  and 
six  children.  Of  all  these  souls  only  two  men 
returned  to  the  old  country,  the  fate  of  the  re- 
mainder being  unknown,  and  shrouded  in  the 
gloom  which  always  attends  mystery.  England 
did  not,  however,  leave  her  children  to  perish  on 
a  barren  shore  in  the  new  land  without  at  least  an 
effort  to  succor  them. 

On  March  20,  in  the  year  1590,  there  sailed 
from  Plymouth  three  ships,  the  Hopewell,  John 
Evangelist,  and  Little  John,  taking  in  tow  two 
shallops  which  were  afterwards  lost  at  sea.  In 
those  days  the  largest  vessels  of  a  fleet  did  not 
exceed  one  hundred  to  one  hundred  and  forty 
tons  burden.  This  expedition  was  under  the 
charge  of  Admiral  John  White,  governor  of  the 
colony  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh  on  Roanoke  Island, 
and  who  had  left  the  feeble  band  on  the  island 
in  1587.  In  thirty-six  days  and  eight  hours  these 
small  vessels  arrived  off  "  Hatorask  "  —  Hatteras 
Beach.  The  fleet  dropped  anchor  three  leagues 


170  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

off  the  beach,  and  sent  a  well-manned  boat 
through  an  inlet  to  Pamplico  Sound. 

There  existed  in  those  days  passages  from  the 
ocean  through  the  beaches  into  the  sounds, 
which  have  since  been  filled  up  by  the  action 
of  the  sea.  Old  Roanoke  Inlet,  now  closed, 
which  was  about  four  miles  north  of  the  mod- 
ern Oregon  Inlet,  is  supposed  to  be  the  one  used 
by  Sir  Walter  Raleigh's  expeditions.  It  is  only 
four  miles  from  the  site  of  this  closed  inlet  to 
Shallowbag  Bay,  on  Roanoke  Island.  At  the 
southern  entrance  of  the  bay,  near  Ballast  Point, 
some  vessel  evidently  grounded  and  threw  over- 
board her  stone  ballast;  hence  the  name  of  the 
point.  Captain  Hatzel  has  examined  this  stone, 
and  gives  his  opinion,  as  an  old  pilot,  that  it  is 
foreign  in  character.  He  never  met  with  similar 
stones,  and  believes  that  this  ballast  was  depos- 
ited at  Shallowbag  Bay  by  some  of  the  vessels 
of  Sir  Walter's  expeditions. 

As  the  boat's  crew  above  mentioned  rowed 
northward  to  Roanoke  Island  —  made  famous 
two  hundred  and  seventy-two  years  later  by 
the  National  and  Confederate  struggles  —  they 
sounded  their  trumpets  and  sang  familiar  songs, 
which  they  hoped  might  be  borne  to  their  coun- 
trymen on  the  shore;  but  the  marshes  and  up- 
land wilderness  returned  no  answering  voice. 

At  daybreak  the  explorers  landed  upon  Roa- 
noke Island,  which  is  twelve  miles  long  by  two 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

and  a  half  wide,  and  found  the  spot  where  Ad- 
miral White  had  left  the  colony  in  1587.  Eager- 
ly searching  for  any  tokens  of  the  lost  ones,  they 
soon  traced  in  the  light  soil  of  the  island  the 
imprint  of  the  moccasin  of  the  savage,  but 
looked  in  vain  for  any  footprint  of  civilized 
man.  What  had  become  of  their  countrymen? 

At  last  some  one  spied  a  conspicuous  tree, 
far  up  on  a  sandy  bank,  blazed  and  carved. 
There  were  but  three  letters  cut  upon  it,  C.  R.  O., 
but  these  simple  symbols  possessed  a  world  of 
meaning.  Three  years  before,  when  the  sad 
farewells  were  being  spoken,  and  the  ships  were 
ready  to  set  sail  for  England,  this  feeble  band,  left 
to  struggle  in  the  wilds  of  the  new  land  with  sad 
forebodings  of  their  possible  fate,  had  agreed 
upon  a  signal,  and  had  promised  Admiral  White 
that  if  driven  to  starvation  upon  the  island,  they 
would  plant  their  colony  fifty  miles  inland,  near 
a  tribe  of  friendly  Indians.  Indeed,  before  the 
ships  sailed  for  England,  they  were  making  prep- 
arations for  this  move.  Admiral  White  requested 
them  to  carve  upon  a  tree  the  name  of  the  local- 
ity to  which  they  should  remove,  and  if  distress 
had  overtaken  them  they  were  to  add  a  cross 
over  the  lettering.  Anxiously  gathering  round 
this  interesting  relic  of  the  lost  Englishmen,  the 
rude  chirography  was  eagerly  scanned,  but  no 
vestige  of  a  cross  was  found. 

Much    relieved    in    mind,  the   little  company 


172  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

continued  their  investigations,  when,  farther  on, 
almost  in  their  very  pathway,  there  rose  a  noble 
tree,  pointing  its  top  heavenward,  as  though  to 
remind  them  in  whose  care  their  lost  ones  had 
been.  Approaching  this  giant,  who  had  stood 
a  silent  sentinel  through  winter  storms  and 
summer  skies,  they  found  he  bore  upon  his  body 
a  message  for  them.  Stripped  of  its  bark,  five 
feet  upward  from  the  ground  there  appeared 
upon  the  bare  surface  in  bold  lettering  the  word 
so  full  of  hope  —  Croat  an;  and  now  also,  as  in 
the  last  case,  without  the  graven  cross.  Cheered 
by  these  signs,  and  believing  that  the  lost  colo- 
nists had  carried  out  their  early  intentions,  and 
were  now  located  among  the  friendly  tribe  of 
Croatans,  wheresoever  their  country  might  be, 
the  boat's  company  decided  to  go  at  once  to  the 
ships,  and  return  the  next  day  in  search  of  the 
lost  colon}^. 

One  of  the  ships,  in  moving  its  position  from 
the  unprotected  anchorage-ground,  parted  its 
cable  and  left  an  anchor  on  the  bottom  —  the 
second  that  had  been  lost.  The  wind  drove  the 
ships  towards  the  beach,  when  a  third  anchor 
was  lowered;  but  it  held  the  little  fleet  so 
close  in  to  the  breakers,  that  the  sailors  were 
forced  to  slip  their  cable  and  work  into  a  chan- 
nel-way, where,  in  deeper  water,  they  held  their 
ground. 

In   debating  the  propriety  of  holding  on  and 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  173 

attempting  to  wear  out  the  gale,  the  scarcity  of 
their  provisions,  and  the  possession  of  but  one 
cask  of  water,  and  only  one  anchor  for  the  fleet 
to  ride  at,  decided  them  to  go  southward  in  quest 
of  some  favorable  landing,  where  water  could  be 
found.  The  council  held  out  the  hope  of  cap- 
turing Spanish  vessels  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
West  Indies;  and  it  was  agreed  that,  if  success- 
ful, the}7  should  return,  richly  laden  with  spoils, 
to  seek  their  exiled  countrymen.  One  of  these 
vessels  returned  to  England,  while  the  Admiral 
laid  his  course  for  Trinidad;  and  this  was  the 
last  attempt  made  to  find  the  colonists. 

More  than  a  century  after  Admiral  White  had 
abandoned  his  colony,  Lawson,  in  writing  about 
the  Hatteras  Indians,  says:  :?  They  said  that 
several  of  their  ancestors  were  white  people,  and 
could  talk  in  a  book  as  we  do;  the  truth  of 
which  is  confirmed  by  grey  eyes  being  frequently 
found  among  them,  and  no  others.  They  value 
themselves  extremely  for  their  affinity  to  the 
English,  and  are  read}7  to  do  them  all  friendly 
offices.  It  is  probable  that  the  settlement  mis- 
carried for  want  of  supplies  from  England,  or 
through  the  treachery  of  the  natives;  for  we 
may  reasonably  suppose  that  the  English  were 
forced  to  cohabit  with  them  for  relief  and  con- 
versation, and  that  in  process  of  time  they 
conformed  themselves  to  the  manners  of  their 
Indian  relations." 


174  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

Dr.  Hawks  thinks,  "  that,  driven  by  starvation, 
such  as  survived  the  famine  were  merged  into 
the  tribes  of  friendly  Indians  at  Croatan,  and, 
alas!  lost  ere  long  every  vestige  of  Christianity 
and  civilization;  and  those  who  came  to  shed 
light  on  the  darkness  of  paganism,  in  the  mys- 
terious providence  of  God  ended  by  relapsing 
themselves  into  the  heathenism  they  came  to 
remove.  It  is  a  sad  picture  of  poor  human 
nature." 

It  needed  not  the  fierce  gusts  of  wind  that 
howled  about  the  tall  tower,  causing  it  to  vibrate 
until  water  would  be  spilled  out  of  a  pail  resting 
upon  the  floor  of  the  lantern,  blowing  one  day 
from  one  quarter  of  the  compass,  and  changing 
the  next  to  another,  to  warn  me  that  I  was  near 
the  Cape  of  Storms. 

Refusing  to  continue  longer  with  my  new 
friends,  the  canoe  was  put  into  the  water  on  the 
1 6th,  and  Captain  Hatzel's  two  sons  proceeded 
in  advance  with  a  strong  boat  to  break  a  channel- 
way  through  the  thin  ice  which  had  formed  in 
the  quiet  coves.  We  were  soon  out  in  the  sound, 
where  the  boys  left  me,  and  I  rowed  out  of  the 
southern  end  of  Roanoke  and  entered  upon  the 
wide  area  of  Pamplico  Sound.  To  avoid  shoals, 
it  being  calm,  I  kept  about  three  miles  from  the 
beach  in  three  feet  of  water,  until  beyond  Duck 
Island,  when  the  trees  on  Roanoke  Island  slowly 
sank  below  the  horizon;  then  gradually  drawing 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  175 

in  to  the  beach,  the  two  clumps  of  trees  of  north 
and  south  Chicamicomico  came  into  view.  A 
life-saving  station  had  recently  been  erected 
north  of  the  first  grove,  and  there  is  another 
fourteen  miles  further  south.  The  two  Chica- 
micomico settlements  of  scattered  houses  are 
each  nearly  a  mile  in  length,  and  are  separated 
by  a  high,  bald  sand-beach  of  about  the  same 
length,  which  was  once  heavily  wooded;  but  the 
wind  has  blown  the  sand  into  the  forest  and 
destroyed  it.  A  wind-mill  in  each  village  raised 
its  weird  arms  to  the  breeze. 

Three  miles  further  down  is  Kitty  Midget's 
Hammock,  where  a  few  red  cedars  and  some 
remains  of  live-oaks  tell  of  the  extensive  forest 
that  once  covered  the  beach.  Here  Captain 
Abraham  Hooper  lives,  and  occupies  himself  in 
fishing  with  nets  in  the  ocean  for  blue-fish,  which 
are  salted  down  and  sent  to  the  inland  towns  for 
a  market.  I  had  drawn  my  boat  into  the  sedge 
to  secure  a  night's  shelter,  when  the  old  captain 
on  his  rounds  captured  me.  The  change  from  a 
bed  in  the  damp  sedge  to  the  inside  seat  of  the 
largest  fireplace  I  had  ever  beheld,  was  indeed 
a  pleasant  one.  Its  inviting  front  covered  almost 
one  side  of  the  room.  While  the  fire  flashed  up 
the  wide  chimney,  I  sat  inside  the  fireplace  with 
the  three  children  of  my  host,  and  enjoyed  the 
genial  glow  which  arose  from  the  fragments  of 
the  wreck  of  a  vessel  which  had  pounded  her- 


176  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

self  to  death  upon  the  strand  near  Kitty  Midget's 
Hammock.  How  curiously  those  white-haired 
children  watched  the  man  who  had  come  so  far 
in  a  paper  boat!  ;f  Why  did  not  the  paper  boat 
soak  to  pieces?  "  they  asked.  Each  explanation 
seemed  but  to  puzzle  them  the  more;  and  I 
found  myself  in  much  the  same  condition  of 
mind  when  trying  to  make  some  discoveries 
concerning  Kitty  Midget.  She  must,  however, 
have  lived  somewhere  on  Clark's  Beach  long 
before  the  present  proprietor  was  born.  We 
spent  the  next  day  fishing  with  nets  in  the  surf 
for  blue-fish,  it  being  about  the  last  day  of 
their  stay  in  that  vicinity.  They  go  south  as 
far  as  Cape  Hatteras,  and  then  disappear  in  deep 
water;  while  the  great  flocks  of  gulls,  that  ac- 
company them  to  gather  the  remnants  of  fish 
they  scatter  in  their  savage  meals,  rise  in  the  air 
and  fly  rapidly  away  in  search  of  other  dainties. 
On  Thursday  I  set  out  for  Cape  Hatteras. 
The  old  sailor's  song,  that  — 

"  Hatteras  has  a  blow  in  store 
For  those  who  pass  her  howling  door," 

has  far  more  truth  than  poetry  in  it.  Before  pro- 
ceeding far  the  wind  blew  a  tempest,  when  a 
young  fisherman  in  his  sailboat  bore  down  upon 
me,  and  begged  me  to  come  on  board.  We  at- 
tempted to  tow  the  canoe  astern,  but  she  filled 
with  water,  which  obliged  us  to  take  her  on 
board.  As  we  flew  along  before  the  wind, 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  177 

dashing  over  the  shoals  with  mad-cap  temerity, 
I  discovered  that  my  new  acquaintance,  Burnett, 
was  a  most  daring  as  well  as  reckless  sailor. 
He  told  me  how  he  had  capsized  his  father's 
schooner  by  carrying  sail  too  long.  "This  'ere 
slow  way  of  doing  things "  he  detested.  His 
recital  was  characteristic  of  the  man. 

:t  You  see,  sir,  we  was  bound  for  Newbern 
up  the  Neuse  River,  and  as  we  were  well  into 
the  sound  with  all  sail  set,  and  travelling  along 
lively,  daddy  says,  '  Lorenzo,  I  reckon  a  little 
yaupon  wouldn't  hurt  me,  so  I'll  go  below  and 
start  a  fire  under  the  kittle.'  ?  Do  as  you  likes, 
daddy,'  sez  I.  So  down  below  he  goes,  and  I 
takes  command  of  the  schooner.  A  big  black 
squall  soon  come  over  Cape  Hatteras  from  the 
Gulf  Stream,  and  it  did  look  like  a  screecher. 
Now,  I  thought,  old  woman,  I'll  make  your  sides 
ache;  so  I  pinted  her  at  it,  and  afore  I  could  luff 
her  up  in  the  wind,  the  squall  kreened  her  on  to 
her  beam-ends.  You'd  a  laughed  to  have  split 
yourself,  mister,  if  you  could  have  seen  daddy  a- 
crawling  out  of  the  companion-way  while  the 
water  was  a-running  down  stairs  like  a  crick. 
Says  he,  ruther  hurriedly,  c  Sonny,  what's  up?' 
f  It  isn't  what's  up,  daddy ;  but  what's  down? 
sez  I;  r  it  sort  o'  looks  as  if  we  had  capsized.' 
?  Sure  'miff,'  answered  dad,  as  the  ballast  shifted 
and  the  schooner  rolled  over  keel  uppermost. 
We  floundered  about  like  porpoises,  but  managed 
12 


178  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

to  get  astride  her  backbone,  when  dad  looked 
kind  of  scornfully  at  me,  and  burst  out  with, 
f  Sonny,  do  you  call  yourself  a  keerful  sailor?' 
f  Keerful  enough,  dad,'  sez  I,  f  for  a  smart  one. 
It's  more  credit  to  a  man  to  drive  his  vessel  like 
a  sailor,  than  to  be  crawling  and  bobbing  along 
like  a  diamond-backed  terrapin.'  Now,  stranger, 
if  you'll  believe  me,  that  keerful  old  father  of 
mine  would  never  let  me  take  the  helum  again, 
so  I  sticks  to  my  aunt  at  the  cape." 

I  found  that  the  boat  in  which  we  were  sailing 
was  a  dug-out,  made  from  two  immense  cypress 
logs.  Larger  boats  than  this  are  made  of  three 
logs,  and  smaller  ones  are  dug  out  of  one. 

Burnett  told  me  that  frame  boats  were  so  easily 
pounded  to  pieces  on  the  shoals,  that  dug-outs 
were  preferred  —  being  very  durable.  We  soon 
passed  the  hamlet  of  North  Kinnakeet,  then 
Scarsborough  with  its  low  houses,  then  South 
Kinnakeet  with  its  two  wind-mills,  and  after 
these  arose  a  sterile,  bald  beach  with  Hatteras 
light-tower  piercing  the  sky,  and  wrest  of  it  Hat- 
teras woods  and  marshes.  We  approached  the 
low  shore  and  ascended  a  little  creek,  where 
we  left  our  boats,  and  repaired  to  the  cottage 
of  Burnett's  aunt. 

After  the  barren  shores  I  had  passed,  this 
little  house,  imbedded  in  living  green,  was  like 
a  bright  star  in  a  dark  night.  It  was  hidden 
away  in  a  heavy  thicket  of  live-oaks  and  cedars, 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 


179 


and  surrounded  by  yaupons,  the  bright  red  ber- 
ries of  which  glistened  against  the  light  green 
leaves.  An  old  woman  stood  in  the  doorway 
with  a  kindly  greeting  for  her  "wild  boy,"  re- 
joicing the  while  that  he  had  "got  back  to  his 
old  aunty  once  more." 

r?  Yes,  aunty,"  said  my  friend  Lorenzo,  "  I  am 
back  again  like  a  bad  penny,  but  not  empty- 
handed;  for  as  soon  as  our  season's  catch  of 
blue-fish  is  sold,  old  aunty  will  have  sixty  or 
seventy  dollars." 

"  He  has  a  good  heart,  if  he  is  so  head-strong," 
whispered  the  motherly  woman,  as  she  wiped  a 
tear  from  her  eyes,  and  gazed  with  pride  upon 
the  manly-looking  young  fellow,  and  —  invited 
us  in  to  tea  —  YAUPON. 


BODY    JSLAND    J^IGHT-^OUSE 


l8o  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 


CHAPTER    X. 

FROM  CAPE  HATTERAS  TO  CAPE  FEAR,  NORTH 
CAROLINA. 

CAPE  HATTERAS  LIGHT.  —  HABITS  OF  BIRDS. —  STORM  AT  HAT- 
TERAS INLET.  —  MILES  OF  WRECKS.  —  THE  YACHT  JULIA 
SEARCHING  FOR  THE  PAPER  CANOE.  —  CHASED  BY  PORPOISES. 
—  MARSH  TACKIES. — OCRACOK.E  INLET.  —  A  GRAVE- YARD  I1. IC- 
ING SWALLOWED  UP  BY  THE  SEA. — CORE  SOUND.  —  THREE 
WEDDINGS  AT  HUNTING  QUARTERS.  —  MOREHEAD  CITY.  — 
NEWBERN.  —  SWANSBORO.  —  A  PEA-NUT  PLANTATION.  —  THE 
ROUTE  TO  CAPE  F*  AR. 

CAPE  HATTERAS  is  the  apex  of  a  tri- 
angle. It  is  the  easternmost  part  of  the 
state  of  North  Carolina,  and  it  extends  farther 
into  the  ocean  than  any  Atlantic  cape  of  the 
United  States.  It  presents  a  low,  broad,  sandy 
point  to  the  sea,  and  for  several  miles  beyond  it, 
in  the  ocean,  are  the  dangerous  Diamond  Shoals, 
the  dread  of  the  mariner. 

The  Gulf  Stream,  with  its  river-like  current 
of  water  flowing  northward  from  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico,  in  its  oscillations  from  east  to  west  fre- 
quently approaches  to  within  eighteen  or  twenty 
miles  of  the  cape,  filling  a  large  area  of  atmos- 
phere with  its  warmth,  and  causing  frequent 
local  disturbances.  The  weather  never  remains 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  l8l 

long  in  a  settled  state.  As  most  vessels  try  to 
make  Hatteras  Light,  to  ascertain  their  true  po- 
sition, &c.,  and  because  it  juts  out  so  far  into  the 
Atlantic,  the  locality  has  become  the  scene  of 
many  wrecks,  and  the  beach,  from  the  cape 
down  to  Hatteras  Inlet,  fourteen  miles,  is  strewn 
with  the  fragments  of  vessels. 

The  coast  runs  north  and  south  above,  and 
east  and  west  south  of  the  cape.  The  old  light- 
house had  been  replaced  by  the  finest  light-tower 
I  had  ever  examined,  which  was  completed  in 
1870.  It  is  one  hundred  and  ninety  feet  in 
height,  and  shows  a  white,  revolving  light. 

Body  Island  Light,  though  forty  feet  less  in 
elevation,  is  frequently  seen  by  the  Hatteras 
light-keeper,  while  the  splendid  Hatteras  Light 
had  been  seen  but  once  by  Captain  Hatzel,  of 
Body  Island.  One  nautical  mile  south  of  Hat- 
teras Light  is  a  small  beacon  light-tower,  which 
is  of  great  service  to  the  coasting-vessels  that 
pass  it  in  following  the  eighteen-feet  curve  of 
the  cape  two  miles  from  the  land  inside  of  Dia- 
mond Shoals. 

While  speaking  of  light-houses,  it  may  be 
interesting  to  naturalists  who  live  far  inland  to 
know  that  while  (as  they  are  well  aware)  thou- 
sands of  birds  are  killed  annually  during  their 
flights  by  striking  against  telegraphic  wires, 
many  wild-fowls  are  also  destroyed  by  dashing 
against  the  lanterns  of  the  light-towers  during 


1 82  VOYAGE    OF    TIIK    PAPER    CANOE. 

the  night.  While  at  Body  Island  Beach,  Captain 
Hatzel  remarked  to  me  that,  during  the  first 
winter^after  the  new  light-tower  was  completed, 
the  snow-geese,  which  winter  on  the  island,  would 
frequently  at  night  strike  the  thick  glass  panes 
of  the  chamber,  and  fall  senseless  upon  the  floor 
of  the  gallery.  The  second  season  they  did  not 
in  a  single  instance  repeat  the  mistake,  but  had 
seemingly  become  educated  to  the  character  of 
the  danger. 

I  have  seen  one  lantern  damaged  to  the 
amount  of  five  hundred  dollars,  by  a  goose 
breaking  a  pane  of  glass  and  striking  heavily 
upon  the  costly  lens  which  surrounds  the  lamp. 
Light-keepers  sometimes  sit  upon  the  gallery, 
and,  looking  along  the  pathway  of  light  which 
shoots  into  the  outer  darkness  over  their  heads, 
will  see  a  few  dark  specks  approaching  them  in 
this  beam  of  radiance.  These  specks  are  birds, 
confused  by  the  bright  rays,  and  ready  to  fall  an 
easy  prey  to  the  eager  keeper,  who,  quickly  lev- 
elling his  double-barrelled  gun,  brings  it  to  bear 
upon  the  opaque,  moving  cloud,  and  with  the 
discharge  of  the  weapon  there  goes  whirling 
through  space  to  the  earth  below  his  next  morn- 
ing's breakfast  of  wild-fowl. 

I  found  Mr.  W.  R.  Jennett  and  his  first  assist- 
ant light-keeper,  Mr.  A.  W.  Simpson,  intelligent 
gentlemen.  The  assistant  has  devoted  his  time, 
when  off  duty,  to  the  study  of  the  habits  of 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.     183 

food-fishes  of  the  sound,  ^nd  has  furnished  the 
United  States  Commission  of  Fisheries  with  sev- 
eral papers  on  that  interesting  subject. 

Here  also  was  Mr.  George  Onslow,  of  the 
United  States  Signal  Service,  who  had  completed 
his  work  of  constructing  a  telegraph  line  from 
Norfolk  along  the  beach  southward  to  this  point, 
its  present  terminus.  With  a  fine  telescope  he 
could  frequently  identify  vessels  a  few  miles 
from  the  cape,  and  telegraph  their  position  to 
New  York.  He  had  lately  saved  a  vessel  by 
telegraphing  to  Norfolk  its  dangerous  location 
on  Hatteras  beach,  where  it  had  grounded.  By 
this  timely  notice  a  wrecking-steamer  had  ar- 
rived and  hauled  the  schooner  off  in  good  con- 
dition. 

A  low  range  of  hills  commences  at  Cape  Hat- 
teras, in  the  rear  of  the  light-house,  and  extends 
nearly  to  Hatteras  Inlet.  This  range  is  heavily 
wooded  with  live-oaks,  yellow  pines,  yaupons, 
cedars,  and  bayonet-plants.  The  fishermen  and 
wreckers  live  in  rudely  constructed  houses,  shel- 
tered by  this  thicket,  which  is  dense  enough  to 
protect  them  from  the  strong  winds  that  blow 
from  the  ocean  and  the  sound. 

I  walked  twelve  miles  through  this  pretty, 
green  retreat,  and  spent  Sunday  with  Mr.  Homer 
W.  Styron,  who  keeps  a  small  store  about  two 
miles  from  the  inlet.  He  is  a  self-taught  as- 
tronomer, and  used  an  ingeniously  constructed 


184  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

telescope  of  his  own  manufacture  for  studying 
the  heavens. 

I  found  at  the  post-office  in  his  store  a  letter 
from  a  yachting  party  which  had  left  Newbern, 
North  Carolina,  to  capture  the  paper  canoe  and 
to  force  upon  its  captain  the  hospitality  of  the 
people  of  that  city,  on  the  Neuse  River,  one 
hundred  miles  from  the  cape.  Judge  I.  E.  West, 
the  owner  of  the  yacht  "Julia,"  and  his  friends, 
had  been  cruising  since  the  eleventh  day  of  the 
month  from  Ocracoke  Inlet  to  Roanoke  Island 
in  search  of  me.  Judge  West,  in  his  letter,  ex- 
pressed a  strong  desire  to  have  me  take  my 
Christmas  dinner  with  his  family.  This  gen- 
erous treatment  from  a  stranger  was  fully  ap- 
preciated, and  I  determined  to  push  on  to 
Morehead  City,  from  which  place  it  would  be 
convenient  to  reach  Newbern  by  rail  without 
changing  my  established  route  southward,  as  I 
would  be  compelled  to  do  if  the  regular  water 
route  of  the  Neuse  River  from  Pamplico  Sound 
were  followed. 

On  this  Saturday  night,  spent  at  Hatteras  Inlet, 
there  broke  upon  us  one  of  the  fiercest  tempests 
I  ever  witnessed,  even  in  the  tropics.  My  pedes- 
trian tramp  down  the  shore  had  scarcely  ended 
when  it  commenced  in  reality.  For  miles  along 
the  beach  thousands  of  acres  of  land  were  soon 
submerged  by  the  sea  and  by  the  torrents  of 
water  which  fell  from  the  clouds.  While  for  a 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  185 

moment  the  night  was  dark  as  Erebus,  again 
the  vivid  flash  of  lightning  exposed  to  view  the 
swaying  forests  and  the  gloomy  sound.  The  sea 
pounded  on  the  beach  as  if  asking  for  admission 
to  old  Pamplico.  It  seemed  to  say,  I  demand  a 
new  inlet;  and,  as  though  trying  to  carry  out  its 
desire,  sent  great  waves  rolling  up  the  shingle 
and  over  into  the  hollows  among  the  hills,  wash- 
ing down  the  low  sand  dunes  as  if  they  also 
were  in  collusion  with  it  to  remove  this  frail 
barrier,  this  narrow  strip  of  low  land  which 
separated  the  Atlantic  from  the  wide  interior 
sheet  of  water. 

The  phosphorescent  sea,  covered  with  its  tens 
of  millions  of  animalcula,  each  one  a  miniature 
light-house,  changed  in  color  from  inky  blackness 
to  silver  sheen.  Will  the  ocean  take  to  itself 
this  frail  foothold? — -we  queried.  Will  it  in- 
gulf us  in  its  insatiable  maw,  as  the  whale  did 
Jonah?  There  was  no  subsidence,  no  pause  in 
the  storm.  It  howled,  bellowed,  and  screeched 
like  a  legion  of  demons,  so  that  the  crashing  of 
falling  trees,  and  the  twisting  of  the  sturdy  live- 
oak's  toughest  limbs,  could  hardly  be  heard  in 
the  din.  Yet  during  this  wild  night  my  storm- 
hardened  companion  sat  with  his  pretty  wife  by 
the  open  fireplace,  as  unmoved  as  though  we 
were  in  the  shelter  of  a  mountain  side,  while  he 
calmly  discoursed  of  storms,  shipwrecks,  and 
terrible  struggles  for  life  that  this  lonely  coast 


I 86  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

had  witnessed,  which  sent  thrills  of  horror  to 
my  heart. 

While  traversing  the  beach  during  the  after- 
noon, as  wreck  after  wreck,  the  gravestones  of 
departed  ships,  projected  their  timbers  from  the 
sands,  I  had  made  a  calculation  of  the  number 
of  vessels  which  had  left  their  hulls  to  rot  on 
Hatteras  beach  since  the  ships  of  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh  had  anchored  above  the  cape,  and  it  re- 
sulted in  making  one  continuous  line  of  vessels, 
wreck  touching  wreck,  along  the  coast  for  many, 
many  miles.  Hundreds  of  miles  of  the  Atlantic 
coast  beaches  would  have  been  walled  in  by  the 
wrecks  could  they  have  come  on  to  the  strand 
at  one  time,  and  all  the  dwellers  along  the  coast, 
outside  of  the  towns,  would  have  been  placed 
in  independent  circumstances  by  wrecking  their 
cargoes. 

During  this  wild  night,  while  the  paper  canoe 
was  safely  stowed  in  the  rushes  of  the  marsh  at 
the  cape,  and  its  owner  was  enjoying  the  warmth 
of  the  young  astronomer's  fire  at  the  inlet,  less 
than  twenty  miles  from  us,  on  the  dangerous 
edge  of  Ocracoke  shoals,  the  searching  party  of 
the  yacht  Julia  were  in  momentary  expectation 
of  going  to  the  bottom  of  the  sound.  For  hours 
the  gallant  craft  hung  to  her  anchors,  which 
were  heavily  backed  by  all  the  iron  ballast  that 
could  be  attached  to  the  cables.  Wave  after 
wave  swept  over  her,  and  not  a  man  could  put 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.      187 

his  head  above  the  hatches.  Then,  as  she  rolled 
in  the  sea,  her  cabin-windows  went  under,  and 
streams  of  water  were  forced  through  the  ports  in- 
to the  confined  space  which  was  occupied  by  the 
little  party.  For  a  time  they  were  in  imminent 
danger,  for  the  vessel  dragged  anchor  to  the  edge 
of  the  shoal,  and  with  a  heavy  thud  the  yacht 
struck  on  the  bottom.  All  hopes  of  ever  return- 
ing to  Newbern  were  lost,  when  the  changing 
tide  swung  the  boat  off  into  deeper  water,  where 
she  rode  out  the  storm  in  safety. 

Before  morning  the  wind  shifted,  and  by  nine 
o'clock  I  retraced  my  steps  to  the  cape,  and  on 
Tuesday  rowed  down  to  Hatteras  Inlet,  which 
was  reached  a  little  past  noon.  Before  attempt- 
ing to  cross  this  dangerous  tidal  gate-way  of  the 
ocean  I  hugged  the  shore  close  to  its  edge,  and 
paused  to  make  myself  familiar  with  the  sand- 
hills of  the  opposite  side,  a  mile  away,  which 
were  to  serve  as  the  guiding-beacons  in  the  pas- 
sage. How  often  had  I,  lying  awake  at  night, 
thought  of  and  dreaded  the  crossing  of  this 
ill-omened  inlet!  It  had  given  me  much  mental 
suffering.  Now  it  was  before  me.  Here  on  my 
right  was  the  great  sound,  on  my  left  the  nar- 
row beach  island,  and  out  through  the  portal 
of  the  open  inlet  surged  and  moaned  under  a 
leaden  sky  that  old  ocean  which  now  seemed  to 
frown  at  me,  and  to  say :  "  Wait,  my  boy,  until 
the  inlet's  waves  deliver  you  to  me,  and  I  will 


1 88  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

put  you  among  my  other  victims  for  your  te- 
merity." 

As  I  gazed  across  the  current  I  remarked  that 
it  did  not  seem  very  rough,  though  a  strong  ebb 
was  running  out  to  the  sea,  and  if  crossed  im- 
mediately, before  the  wind  arose,  there  could  be 
no  unreasonable  risk.  My  canvas  deck-cover 
was  carefully  pulled  close  about  my  waist,  and  a 
rigid  inspection  of  oars  and  row-locks  was  made; 
then,  with  a  desire  to  reserve  my  strength  for 
any  great  demand  that  might  be  made  upon  it  a 
little  later,  I  rowed  with  a  steady  stroke  out  into 
Hatteras  Inlet.  There  was  no  help  nearer  than 
Styron's,  two  miles  away  on  the  upper  shore, 
while  the  beach  I  was  approaching  on  the  other 
side  was  uninhabited  for  nearly  sixteen  miles,  to 
the  village  at  its  southern  end,  near  Ocracoke 
Inlet.  Upon  entering  the  swash  I  thought  of  the 
sharks  which  the  Hatteras  fishermen  had  told 
me  frequently  seized  their  oars,  snapping  the 
thin  blades  in  pieces,  assuring  me,  at  the  same 
time,  that  mine  would  prove  very  attractive, 
being  so  white  and  glimmering  in  the  water,  and 
offering  the  same  glittering  fascination  as  a 
silver-spoon  bait  does  to  a  blue-fish.  These 
cheerful  suggestions  caused  a  peculiar  creeping 
sensation  to  come  over  me,  but  I  tried  to  quiet 
myself  with  the  belief  that  the  sharks  had  fol- 
lowed the  blue-fish  into  deeper  water,  to  escape 
cold  weather. 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  189 

The  canoe  crossed  the  upper  ebb,  and  entered 
an  area  where  the  ebb  from  the  opposite  side  of 
the  inlet  struck  the  first  one.  While  crossing 
the  union  of  the  two  currents,  a  wind  came  in  at 
the  opening  through  the  beach,  and  though  not 
a  strong  one,  it  created  a  great  agitation  of  the 
water.  The  dangerous  experience  at  Watcha- 
preague  Inlet  had  taught  me  that  when  in  such 
a  sea  one  must  pull  with  all  his  strength,  and 
that  the  increased  momentum  would  give  greater 
buoyancy  to  the  shell ;  for  while  under  this  treat- 
ment she  bounced  from  one  irregular  wave  to 
another  with  a  climbing  action  which  greatly 
relieved  my  anxiety.  The  danger  seemed  to  be 
decreasing,  and  I  stole  a  furtive  glance  over  my 
shoulder  at  the  low  dunes  of  the  beach  shore 
which  I  was  approaching,  to  see  how  far  into  the 
inlet  the  tide  had  dragged  me.  The  white  water 
to  leeward  warned  me  of  a  shoal,  and  forced  me 
to  pull  hard  for  the  sound  to  escape  being  drawn 
into  the  breakers.  This  danger  was  hardly 
passed,  when  suddenly  the  waters  around  me 
seethed  and  foamed,  and  the  short  waves  parted 
and  closed,  as  great  creatures  rose  from  the 
deep  into  the  air  several  feet,  and  then  fell  heav- 
ily into  the  sea.  My  tiny  shell  rocked  and 
pitched  about  wildly  as  these  animals  appeared 
and  disappeared,  leaping  from  the  waves  all  around 
me,  diving  under  the  boat  and  reappearing  on 
the  opposite  side.  They  lashed  the  current  with 


190  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

their  strong  tails,  and  snorted  or  blowed  most 
dismally.  For  an  instant  surprise  and  alarm  took 
such  possession  of  me  that  not  a  muscle  of  my 
arms  obeyed  my  will,  and  the  canoe  commenced 
to  drift  in  the  driving  stream  towards  the  open 
sea.  This  confusion  was  only  momentary,  for  as 
soon  as  I  discovered  that  my  companions  were 
porpoises  and  only  old  acquaintances,  I  deter- 
mined to  avoid  them  as  soon  as  possible. 

With  a  quick  glance  at  my  stern  range,  a  sand- 
hill on  the  shore  of  the  inlet,  and  another  look 
over  my  shoulder  for  the  sand  dunes  of  the  other 
side,  I  exerted  every  muscle  to  reach  the  beach; 
but  my  frisky  friends  were  in  no  mood  to  leave 
me,  but  continued  their  fun  with  increased  ener- 
gy as  reinforcements  came  up  from  all  directions. 
The  faster  I  rowed  the  more  they  multiplied, 
ploughing  the  sea  in  erratic  courses.  They  were 
from  five  to  seven  feet  in  length,  and  must  have 
weighed  from  two  hundred  to  four  hundred 
pounds  each.  Though  their  attentions  were  kind- 
ly meant,  their  brusqueness  on  such  an  unsteady 
footing  was  unpardonable.  I  most  feared  the 
strong,  shooting  movements  of  their  tails  in  the 
sudden  dives  under  my  canoe,  for  one  sportive 
touch  of  such  a  caudality  would  have  rolled 
me  over,  and  furnished  material  for  a  tale  the 
very  anticipation  of  which  was  unpleasant. 

The  aquatic  gambols  of  the  porpoises  lasted 
but  a  few  minutes  after  they  had  called  in  all 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  19! 

their  neighbors,  and  had  chased  me  into  three 
feet  depth  of  water.  They  then  spouted  a  nasal 
farewell,  which  sounded  more  catarrhal  than 
guitaral,  and  left  me  for  the  more  profitable  oc- 
cupation of  fishing  in  the  tide-way  of  the  inlet, 
while  I  rowed  into  a  shallow  cove,  out  of  the 
ebb,  to  rest,  and  to  recover  from  the  effects  of 
my  fright. 

As  I  pulled  along  the  beach  the  tide  receded 
so  rapidly  that  the  canoe  was  constantly  ground- 
ing, and  wading  became  necessary,  for  I  could 
not  get  within  several  feet  of  the  shore.  When 
five  miles  from  Hatteras  Inlet  I  espied  an  empty 
grass  cabin,  which  the  fishermen  used  in  Febru- 
ary while  catching  shad;  and,  as  a  southerly  wind 
was  now  blowing  from  the  sea,  and  rain  was 
falling,  it  offered  a  night's  shelter  for  the  traveller. 
This  Robinson  Crusoe  looking  structure  was 
located  upon  the  low  land  near  the  sound,  while 
bleak,  sharp-pointed,  treeless  and  grassless  sand- 
hills, blown  into  shape  by  the  winds,  arose  in  the 
background,  and  cut  off  a  view  of  the  ocean, 
which,  judging  from  the  low,  melancholy  moan- 
ing coming  over  the  dunes,  was  in  a  sad  mood. 

The  canoe  was  hauled  into  the  bushes  and 
tied  securely  for  fear  a  deceptive  tide  might  bear 
it  away.  The  provisions,  blankets,  &c.,  were 
moved  into  the  grass  hut,  which  needed  repair- 
ing. The  holes  in  the  south  wall  were  soon 
thatched,  and  a  bed  easily  prepared  from  the 


192  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

rushes  of  the  marsh.     It  mattered  not  that  they- 
were    wet,   for  a  piece  of  painted    canvas    was 
spread  over  them,   and  the   inviting  couch  fin- 
ished. 

As  fresh  water  can  usually  be  obtained  on  all 
these  low  beaches  by  digging  two  or  three  feet 
into  the  sand,  I  looked  for  a  large  clam-shell,  and 
my  search  being  rewarded,  I  was  soon  engaged 
in  digging  a  well  near  the  cabin. 

Upon  looking  up  from  my  work  a  curious 
sight  met  my  gaze.  In  some  mysterious  way 
every  sharp-pointed  sand-hill  had  been  covered 
by  a  black  object,  which  swayed  about  and  nod- 
ded up  and  down  in  a  strange  manner.  As  I 
watched  the  development  of  this  startling  phe- 
nomenon, the  nodding,  black  objects  grew  in 
size  until  the  head,  body,  and  four  legs  of  a 
horse  were  clearly  cut  against  the  sky.  A  little 
later  every  crest  was  surmounted  by  the  comical 
figure  of  a  marsh-tacky.  Then  a  few  sheep  came 
out  of  the  hollows  among  the  hills  and  browsed 
on  the  coarse  grass  near  the  cabin,  as  though 
they  felt  the  loneliness  of  their  situation  so  far 
removed  from  mankind.  With  the  marsh-ponies, 
the  sheep,  the  wild-fowls  of  the  sound,  and  the 
sighing  sea  for  companions,  the  night  passed 
.away. 

The  bright  moonlight  roused  me  at  five  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  and  I  pushed  off  again  in  shoal 
water  on  an  ebb-tide,  experiencing  much  diffi- 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  193 

culty  in  dragging  the  canoe  over  shallow  places 
until  deep  water  was  entered,  when  the  row  to 
Ocracoke  became  an  agreeable  one.  The  land- 
ing-place at  Ocracoke,  not  far  from  the  light- 
house, was  reached  at  noon,  and  the  people 
gathered  to  see  the  paper  boat,  having  been 
notified  of  my  proximity  by  fishermen. 

The  women  here  can  pull  a  pretty  good  stroke, 
and  frequently  assist  their  husbands  in  the  fish- 
eries. These  old  dames  ridiculed  the  idea  of 
having  a  boat  so  small  and  light  as  the  canoe. 
One  old  lady  laid  aside  her  pipe  and  snulf- 
paddle  (snuff-rubbing  is  a  time-honored  insti- 
tution in  the  south),  and  roughly  grasping  the 
.bow  of  the  craft,  lifted  it  high  in  the  air,  then, 
glancing  at  the  fine  model,  she  lowered  it  slowly 
to  the  ground,  exclaiming,  "  I  reckon  I  wouldn't 
risk  my  life  acrossing  a  creek  in  her." 

These  people  told  me  that  the  yacht  Julia  had 
stopped  there  to  make  inquiries  for  me,  and  had 
departed  for  Newbern. 

It  was  more  than  a  mile  from  the  landing  to 
Ocracoke  Inlet,  and  a  mile  and  three  quarters 
across  it  to  the  beach.  A  straight  course  from 
the  landing  to  the  village  of  Portsmouth,  on  the 
lower  side  of  the  inlet,  was  a  distance  of  five 
miles,  and  not  one  of  the  hardy  watermen,  who 
thumped  the  sides  of  my  boat  with  their  hard 
fists  to  ascertain  its  strength,  believed  that  I 
could  cross  the  sound  to  the  other  village  with- 

13 


194  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

out  rolling  over.  One  kind-hearted  oysterman 
offered  to  carry  myself  and  boat  to  Portsmouth; 
but  as  the  day  was  calm,  I  rowed  away  on  the 
five-mile  stretch  amid  doleful  prognostications, 
such  as:  "That  feller  will  make  a  coffin  for  his- 
self  out  of  that  yere  gimcrack  of  an  egg-shell. 
It's  all  a  man's  life  is  wurth  to  go  in  her,"  &c. 

While  approaching  the  low  Portsmouth  shore 
of  the  sound,  flocks  of  Canada  geese  flew  .within 
pistol-shot  of  my  head.  A  man  in  a  dug-out 
canoe  told  me  that  the  gunners  of  the  village 
had  reared  from  the  egg  a  flock  of  wild  geese 
which  now  aggregated  some  seven  or  eight  hun- 
dred birds,  and  that  these  now  flying  about  were 
used  to  decoy  their  wild  relatives. 

Near  the  beach  a  sandy  hill  had  been  the  place 
of  sepulture  for  the  inhabitants  of  other  genera- 
tions, but  for  years  past  the  tidal  current  had 
been  cutting  the  shore  away  until  coffin  after 
coffin  with  its  contents  had  been  washed  into 
the  sound.  Captain  Isaac  S.  Jennings,  of  Ocean 
County,  New  Jersey,  had  described  this  spot  to 
me  as  follows: 

"I  landed  at  Portsmouth  and  examined  this 
curious  burial-ground.  Here  by  the  water  were 
the  remains  of  the  fathers,  mothers,  brothers, 
and  sisters  of  the  people  of  the  village  so  near  at 
hand;  yet  these  dismal  relics  of  their  ancestors 
were  allowed  to  be  stolen  away  piecemeal  by 
the  encroaching  ocean.  While  I  gazed  sadly 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  195 

upon  the  strata  of  coffins  protruding  from  the 
banks,  shining  objects  like  jewels  seemed  to  be 
sparkling  from  between  the  cracks  of  their  frac- 
tured sides;  and  as  I  tore  away  the  rotten  wood, 
rows  of  toads  were  discovered  sitting  in  sol- 
emn council,  their  bright  eyes  peering  from 
antong  the  debris  of  bones  and  decomposed 
substances." 

Portsmouth  Island  is  nearly  eight  miles  long. 
Whalebone  Inlet  is  at  its  lower  end,  but  is  too 
shallow  to  be  of  any  service  to  commerce.  Hat- 
teras  and  Ocracoke  inlets  admit  sea-going  ves- 
sels. It  is  thirty-eight  miles  from  Whalebone 
Inlet  to  Cape  Lookout,  which  projects  like  a 
wedge  into  the  sea  nearly  three  miles  from  the 
mainland,  and  there  is  not  another  passage 
through  the  narrow  beach  in  all  that  distance 
that  is  of  any  use  to  the  mariner.  Following 
the  trend  of  the  coast  for  eleven  miles  from  the 
point  of  Cape  Lookout,  there  is  an  inlet,  but, 
from  the  character  of  its  channel  and  its  shal- 
lowness,  it  is  not  of  much  value. 

Leaving  Portsmouth,  the  canoe  entered  Core 
Sound,  which  grew  narrower  as  the  shoals  inside 
of  Whalebone  Inlet  were  crossed,  partly  by  row- 
ing and  partly  by  wading  on  the  sand-flats.  As 
night  came  on,  a  barren  stretch  of  beach  on  my 
left  hand  was  followed  until  I  espied  the  only 
house  within  a  distance  of  sixteen  miles  along 
the  sea.  It  was  occupied  by  a  coasting  skipper, 


196  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

whose  fine  little  schooner  was  anchored  a  long 
distance  from  the  land  on  account  of  the  shoal- 
ness  of  the  water.  Dreary  sand-hills  protected 
the  cottage  from  the  bleak  winds  of  the  ocean. 

While  yet  a  long  distance  from  the  skipper's 
home,  a  black  object  could  be  seen  crawling  up 
the  sides  of  a  mound  of  white  sand,  and  after  it 
reached  the  apex  it  remained  in  one  position, 
while  I  rowed,  and  waded,  and  pulled  my  canoe 
towards  the  shore.  When  the  goal  was  reached, 
and  the  boat  was  landed  high  up  among  the 
scrub  growth,  I  shouldered  my  blankets  and 
charts,  and  plodded  through  the  soft  soil  towards 
the  dark  object,  which  I  now  recognized  to  be  a 
man  on  a  lookout  post.  He  did  not  move  from 
his  position  until  I  reached  the  hillock,  when  he 
suddenly  slid  down  the  bank  and  landed  at  my 
feet,  with  a  cheery  — 

tr  Well,  now,  I  thought  it  was  you.  Sez  I  to 
myself,  That's  him,  sure,  when  I  seed  you 
four  miles  away.  Fust  thinks  I,  It's  only  a 
log,  or  a  piece  of  wrak-stuff  afloating.  Pretty 
soon  up  comes  your  head  and  shoulders  into 
sight;  then  sez  I,  It's  a  man,  sure,  but  where  is 
his  boat?  for  you  see,  I  couldn't  see  your  boat,  it 
was  so  low  down  in  the  water.  Then  I  reckoned 
it  was  a  man  afloating  on  a  log,  but  arter  a 
while  the  boat  loomed  up  too,  and  I  says,  I'll  be 
dog-goned  if  that  isn't  him.  I  went  up  to  New- 
bern,  some  time  ago,  in  the  schooner,  and  the 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  197 

people  there  said  there  was  a  man  coming  down 
the  coast  a-rowing  a  paper  boat  on  a  bet.  The 
boat  weighed  only  fifty-eight  pounds,  and  the 
man  had  a  heft  of  only  eighty  pounds.  When 
pa  and  me  went  up  to  the  city  agin,  the  folks 
said  the  man  was  close  on  to  us,  and  this  time 
they  said  the  man  and  his  boat  together  weighed 
only  eighty  pounds.  Now  I  should  think  you 
weighed  more  than  that  yourself,  letting  alone 
the  boat." 

Having  assured  the  young  man  that  I  was 
indeed  myself,  and  that  the  Newbern  people  had 
played  upon  his  credulity,  we  walked  on  to  the 
house,  where  the  family  of  Captain  James  Mason 
kindly  welcomed  me  to  a  glowing  wood-fire  and 
hearty  supper.  Though  I  had  never  heard  of 
their  existence  till  I  entered  Core  Sound,  the 
kindness  of  these  people  was  like  that  of  old 
friends. 

Half  a  mile  below  Captain  Mason's  home,  a 
short  time  before  my  visit,  a  new  breach  had 
been  made  by  the  ocean  through  the  beach. 
About  twenty  year-s  before  a  similar  breach  had 
occurred  in  the  same  locality,  and  was  known 
during  its  short  life  as  "  Pillintary  Inlet."  The 
next  day  I  crossed  the  sound,  which  is  here  four 
miles  in  width,  and  coasted  along  to  the  oyster- 
men's  village  of  Hunting  Quarters,  on  the  main- 
land. The  houses  were  very  small,  but  the 
hearts  of  the  poor  folks  were  very  large.  They 


198  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

came  to  the  water's  edge  and  carried  the  canoe 
into  the  only  store  in  the  neighborhood.  Its 
proprietor,  Mr.  William  H.  Stewart,  insisted 
upon  my  sharing  his  bachelor's  quarters  in  an 
unfinished  room  of  the  storehouse.  My  young 
host  was  hardly  out  of  his  teens.  In  his  boyish 
way  he  kindly  remarked: 

w  I  am  here  all  alone.  Father  told  me,  before 
he  died,  never  to  let  a  stranger  pass  my  door  but 
to  make  him  share  my  lodgings,  humble  though 
they  are;  and  now,  any  way,  you're  just  in  time 
for  the  fun,  for  we  are  to  have  three  weddings 
to-night,  and  all  the  boys  and  girls  of  the  neigh- 
borhood will  be  at  Hunting  Quarters." 

I  entered  a  mild  protest  against  joining  in  the 
festivities,  on  the  plea  of  not  having  received  an 
invitation;  at  which  the  handsome  youth  laughed 
heartily. 

"Invitation!"  he  exclaimed;  "why,  no  one 
ever  gives  out  invitations  in  Hunting  Quarters. 
When  there  is  to  be  a  ?  jollification '  of  any  sort, 
everybody  goes  to  the  house  without  being 
asked.  You  see  we  are  all  neighbors  here.  Up 
at  Newbern  and  at  Beaufort,  and  other  great 
cities,  people  have  their  ways,  but  here  all  are 
friends." 

So  we  went  to  the  little  house  in  the  piny 
forest,  where  two  hearts  were  to  be  made  one. 
The  only  room  on  the  first  floor  was  crowded 
with  people.  The  minister  had  not  arrived,  and 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  199 

the  crowd  was  gazing  at  the  young  groom  and  his 
pretty  bride-elect  as  they  sat  in  two  chairs  in  the 
middle  of  the  company,  with  their  arms  around 
each  other,  never  speaking  a  word  to  any  one. 
The  heavy  weight  of  people  began  to  settle  the 
floor,  and  as  two  joists  gave  way  I  struggled  to 
escape  through  an  open  window,  thinking  we 
would  be  precipitated  into  the  cellar  below. 
But  the  good-natured  company  took  no  notice 
of  the  snapping  timbers,  only  ejaculating,  "She'll 
soon  touch  bottom;"  and  to  my  inquiries  about 
the  inconvenience  of  being  pitched  through  to 
the  cellar,  a  rustic  youth,  with  great  merriment 
depicted  upon  his  countenance,  replied: 

"  Sullers,  captain,  why,  there  ain't  a  suller  to  a 
buildin'  within  thirty  miles  of  the  Quarters.  We 
never  uses  sullers  hereabouts." 

By  my  side  was  a  young  fisherman,  who  had 
got  home  from  a  cruise,  and  was  overflowing 
with  affection  towards  every  girl  present.  "  O, 
gals,"  he  would  cry,  "you  don't  know  how  nice 
I  feels  to  get  back  to  you  once  more !  "  Throw- 
ing his  arms  around  a  bright-eyed  girl,  who 
vainly  tried  to  escape  him,  he  said,  "  O,  weary 
mariner,  here  is  thy  rest!  No  more  shall  he 
wander  from  thee." 

This  sentimental  strain  was  interrupted  by  an 
old  lady,  who  reached  her  arm  over  my  shoul- 
der to  administer  a  rebuke.  "  Sam,  ye're  a  fool !  " 
she  cried;  "ye're  beside  yourself  to-night,  and 


200  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

afore  this  paper-canoe  captain,  too.  Ef  I  was 
a  gal  I'd  drap  yere  society,  wid  yere  familiar 
ways  right  in  company." 

The  blow  and  the  admonition  fell  harmlessly 
upon  the  head  and  the  heart  of  the  sailor,  who 
replied,  "  Aunty,  I  knows  my  advantages  in 
Hunting  Quarters  —  wimen  is  plenty,  and  men 
is  few" 

The  crowd  roared  with  laughter  at  this  truism, 
but  were  quieted  by  the  shout  of  a  boy  that 
the  preacher  was  a-coming;  whereupon  the  rev- 
erend gentleman  elbowed  his  way  through 
the  guests  to  the  quiet  couple,  and  requested 
them  to  stand  up.  A  few  hurried  words  by  the 
clergyman,  a  few  bashful  replies  from  the  young 
people,  and  the  two  were  made  one.  The  crowd 
rushed  outside  of  the  house,  where  a  general 
scramble  took  place  among  the  boys  for  their 
girls.  Then  a  procession  was  formed,  headed 
by  the  clergyman,  which  marched  along  the 
sandy  road  to  another  house  in  the  woods,  where 
the  second  marriage  was  to  be  celebrated. 

It  was  amusing  to  see  the  young  men  dash 
away  from  the  procession,  to  run  to  the  village  store 
for  candy  at  twenty-five  cents  per  pound,  con- 
taining as  much  terra  alba  (white  clay)  as  sugar. 
With  well-filled  pockets  they  would  run  back  to 
the  procession  and  fill  the  girls'  aprons  with  the 
sweets,  soon  repeating  the  process,  and  shower- 
ing upon  the  fair  ones  cakes,  raisins,  nuts,  and 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.      2OI 

oranges.  The  only  young  man  who  seemed  to 
find  no  favor  in  any  woman's  eyes  invested 
more  capital  in  sweetmeats  than  the  others;  and 
though  every  girl  in  the  procession  gave  him  a 
sharp  word  or  a  kick  as  he  passed,  yet  none  re- 
fused his  candies  as  he  tossed  them  at  the  maid- 
ens, or  stuffed  them  into  the  pockets  of  their 
dresses. 

The  second  ceremony  was  performed  in  about 
three  minutes,  and  the  preacher  feeling  faint  from 
his  long  ride  through  the  woods,  declared  he  must 
have  some  supper.  So,  while  he  was  being 
served,  the  girls  chatted  together,  the  old  ladies 
helped  each  other  to  snuff  with  little  wooden  pad- 
dles, which  were  left  protruding  from  one  corner 
of  their  mouths  after  they  had  taken  "a  dip," 
as  they  called  it.  The  boys,  after  learning  that 
the  preacher  had  postponed  the  third  marriage 
for  an  hour,  with  a  wild  shout  scampered  off 
to  Stewart's  store  for  more  candies.  I  took 
advantage  of  the  interim  to  inquire  how  it  was 
that  the  young  ladies  and  gentlemen  were  upon 
such  terms  of  pleasant  intimacy. 

:tWell,  captain,"  replied  the  person  interro- 
gated, "you  sees  we  is  all  growed  up  together, 
and  brotherly  love  and  sisterly  affection  is  our 
teaching.  The  brethren  love  the  sisteren;  and 
they  say  that  love  begets  love,  so  the  sisteren 
loves  the  brethren.  It's  parfecly  nateral.  That's 
the  hull  story,  captain.  How  is  it  up  your  way?  " 


202  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

At  last  the  preacher  declared  himself  satisfied 
with  all  he  had  eaten,  and  that  enough  was  as 
good  as  a  feast;  so  the  young  people  fell  into  line, 
and  we  trudged  to  the  third  house,  where,  with 
the  same  dispatch,  the  third  couple  were  united. 
Then  the  fiddler  scraped  the  strings  of  his  instru- 
ment, and  a  double-shuffle  dance  commenced. 
The  girls  stamped  and  moved  their  feet  about  in 
the  same  manner  as  the  men.  Soon  four  or  five 
of  the  young  ladies  left  the  dancing-party,  and 
seated  themselves  in  a  corner,  pouting  discon- 
tentedly. My  companion  explained  to  me  that 
the  deserters  were  a  little  stuck-up,  having 
made  two  or  three  visits  on  a  schooner  to  the 
city  (Newbern),  where  they  had  other  ways 
of  dancing,  and  where  the  folks  didn't  think 
it  pretty  for  a  girl  to  strike  her  heels  upon  the 
floor,  &c. 

How  long  they  danced  I  know  not,  for  the 
prospect  of  a  long  row  on  the  morrow  sent  me 
to  rest  in  the  storehouse,  from  which  I  was  called 
by  a  kind  old  couple  sending  for  me  to  take  tea 
with  them  at  half  an  hour  after  midnight.  Un- 
willing to  wound  the  sensitive  feelings  of  these 
hospitable  people,  I  answered  the  summons  in 
propria  persona,  and  found  it  was  the  mother 
of  bride  No.  i,  to  whom  I  was  indebted  for 
the  invitation.  A  well-filled  table  took  up  the 
space  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  where  a  few 
hour^  before  the  timbers  creaked  beneath  the 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  203 

weight  of  the  curious  crowd;  and  there,  sitting 
on  one  side  in  the  same  affectionate  manner  I 
have  described,  were  the  bride  and  groom,  ap- 
parently unmoved  by  the  change  of  scene,  while 
the  bride's  mother  rocked  in  her  chair,  moaning, 
"O  John,  if  you'd  taken  the  other  gal,  I  might 
have  stood  it,  but  this  yere  one  has  been  my 
comfort." 

At  dawn  the  canoe  was  put  into  Core  Sound, 
and  I  followed  the  western  shore,  cheered  by  the 
bright  sun  of  our  Saviour's  natal  day.  At  noon 
the  mouth  of  the  thoroughfare  between  Harker's 
Island  and  the  mainland  was  unintentionally 
passed,  and  I  rowed  along  by  the  side  of  the 
island  next  Fort  Macon,  which  is  inside  of  the 
angle  made  by  Cape  Lookout. 

Finding  it  impossible  to  reach  Newbern  via 
Morehead  City  that  day,  the  canoe  was  beached 
upon  the  end  of  Harker's  Island,  where  I  break- 
fasted at  the  fashionable  hour  of  two  p.  M.,  with 
men,  women,  and  children  around  me.  My 
mode  of  cooking  the  condensed  food  and  liquid 
beef,  so  quickly  prepared  for  the  palate,  and  the 
remarkable  boat  of  -paper,  all  filled  the  islanders 
with  wonder.  They  were  at  first  a  little  shy, 
looking  upon  the  apparition — which  seemed  in 
some  wonderful  way  to  have  dropped  upon 
their  beach  —  with  the  light  of  curiosity  in  their 
eyes. 

Then,  as  I  explained  the  many  uses  to  which 


204  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

paper  was  put,  even  to  the  paying  off  of  great 
national  debts,  my  audience  became  very  friend- 
ly, and  offered  to  get  me  up  a  Christmas  dinner 
in  their  cabins  among  the  groves  of  trees  near 
the  strand,  if  I  would  tarry  with  them  until  night. 
But  time  was  precious;  so,  with  thanks  on  my 
part  for  their  kind  offers,  we  parted,  they  helping 
me  launch  my  little  boat,  and  waving  a  cheerful 
adieu  as  I  headed  the  canoe  for  Beaufort,  which 
was  quietly  passed  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon. 

Three  miles  further  on,  the  railroad  pier  of 
Morehead  City,  in  Bogue  Sound,  was  reached, 
and  a  crowd  of  people  carried  the  canoe  into 
the  hotel.  A  telegram  was  soon  received  from 
the  superintendent  of  the  railroad  at  Newbern, 
inviting  me  to  a  free  ride  to  the  city  in  the  first 
train  of  the  following  morning. 

The  reader  who  has  followed  me  since  I  left 
the  chilly  regions  of  the  St.  Lawrence  must  not 
have  his  patience  taxed  by  too  much  detail,  lest 
he  should  weary  of  my  story  and  desert  my 
company.  Were  it  not  for  this  fear,  it  would 
give  me  pleasure  to  tell  how  a  week  was  passed 
in  Newbern;  how  the  people  came  even  from 
interior  towns  to  see  the  paper  canoe;  how 
some,  doubting  my  veracity,  slyly  stuck  the 
blades  of  their  pocket-knives  through  the  thin 
sides  of  the  canoe,  forgetting  that  it  had  yet  to 
traverse  many  dangerous  inlets,  and  that  its 
owner  preferred  a  tight,  dry  boat  to  one  punc- 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  205 

tured  by  knives.  Even  old  men  became  enthu- 
siastic, and  when  I  was  absent  from  my  little 
craft,  an  uncontrollable  ambition  seized  them, 
and  they  got  into  the  frail  shell  as  it  rested  upon 
the  floor  of  a  hall,  and  threatened  its  destruc- 
tion. It  seemed  impossible  to  make  one  gen- 
tleman of  Newbern  understand  that  when  the 
boat  was  in  the  water  she  was  resting  upon  all 
her  bearings,  but  when  out  of  water  only  upon 
a  thin  strip  of  wood. 

"  By  George,"  said  this  stout  gentleman  in  a 
whisper  to  a  friend,  "  I  told  my  wife  I  would  get 
into  that  boat  if  I  smashed  it." 

"And  what  did  the  lady  say,  old  fellow?" 
asked  the  friend. 

"  O,"  he  replied,  "  she  said,  ?  Now  don't  make 
a  fool  of  yourself,  Fatness,  or  your  ambition  may 
get  you  into  the  papers,' "  and  the  speaker  fairly 
shook  with  laughter. 

While  at  Newbern,  Judge  West  and  his  brother 
organized  a  grand  hunt,  and  the  railroad  com- 
pany sent  us  down  the  road  eighteen  miles  to  a 
wild  district,  where  deer,  coons,  and  wild-fowl 
were  plentiful,  and  where  we  hunted  all  night  for 
coons  and  ducks,  and  all  day  for  deer.  Under 
these  genial  influences  the  practical  study  of 
geography  for  the  first  time  seemed  dull,  and  I 
became  aware  that,  under  the  efforts  of  the  cit- 
izens of  Newbern  to  remind  me  of  the  charms 


206  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

of  civilized  society,  I  was,  as  a  travelling  geog- 
rapher, fast  becoming  demoralized. 

Could  I,  after  the  many  pleasures  I  was  daily 
enjoying,  settle  down  to  a  steady  pull  and  one 
meal  a  day  with  a  lunch  of  dry  crackers;  or 
sleep  on  the  floor  of  fishermen's  cabins,  with 
fleas  and  other  little  annoyances  attendant  there- 
on? Having  realized  my  position,  I  tore  myself 
away  from  my  many  new  friends  and  retraced 
my  steps  to  Morehead  City,  leaving  it  on  Tues- 
day, January  5th,  and  rowing  down  the  little 
sound  called  Bogue  towards  Cape  Fear. 

As  night  came  on  I  discovered  on  the  shore  a 
grass  cabin,  which  was  on  the  plantation  of  Dr. 
Emmett,  and  had  been  left  tenantless  by  some 
fisherman.  This  served  for  shelter  during  the 
night,  though  the  struggles  and  squeal  ings  of  a 
drove  of  hogs  attempting  to  enter  through  the 
rickety  door  did  not  contribute  much  to  my 
repose. 

The  watercourses  now  became  more  intri- 
cate, growing  narrower  as  I  rowed  southward. 
The  open  waters  of  the  sound  were  left  behind, 
and  I  entered  a  labyrinth  of  creeks  and  small 
sheets  of  water,  which  form  a  network  in  the 
marshes  between  the  sandy  beach-islands  and 
the  mainland  all  the  way  to  Cape  Fear  River. 
The  Core  Sound  sheet  of  the  United  States 
Coast  Survey  ended  at  Cape  Lookout,  there  be- 
ing no  charts  of  the  route  to  Masonboro.  I  was 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  207 

therefore  now  travelling  upon  local  knowledge, 
which  proves  usually  a  very  uncertain  guide. 

In  a  cold  rain  the  canoe  reached  the  little  vil- 
lage of  Swansboro,  where  the  chief  personage 
of  the  place  of  two  hundred  inhabitants,  Mr. 
McLain,  removed  me  from  my  temporary  camp- 
ing-place in  an  old  house  near  the  turpentine 
distilleries  into  his  own  comfortable  quarters. 

There  are  twenty  mullet  fisheries  within  ten 
miles  of  Swansboro,  which  employ  from  fifteen 
to  eighteen  men  each.  The  pickled  and  dried 
roe  of  this  fish  is  shipped  to  Wilmington  and  to 
Cincinnati.  Wild-fowls  abound,  and  the  shoot- 
ing is  excellent.  The  fishermen  say  flocks  of 
ducks  seven  miles  in  length  have  been  seen  on 
the  waters  of  Bogue  Sound.  Canvas-backs  are 
called  "  raft-ducks "  here,  and  they  sell  from 
twelve  to  twenty  cents  each.  Wild  geese  bring 
forty  cents,  and  brant  thirty. 

The  marsh-ponies  feed  upon  the  beaches,  in 
a  half  wild  state,  with  the  deer  and  cattle,  cross 
the  marshes  and  swim  the  streams  from  the  main- 
land to  the  beaches  in  the  spring,  and  graze  there 
until  winter,  when  they  collect  in  little  herds, 
and  instinctively  return  to  the  piny  woods  of 
the  uplands.  Messrs.  Weeks  and  Taylor  riad 
shot,  while  on  a  four-days'  hunt  up  the  White 
Oak  River,  twenty  deer.  Captain  H.  D.  Heady, 
of  Swansboro,  informed  me  that  the  ducks  and 
geese  he  killed  in  one  winter  supplied  him  with 


208  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

one  hundred  pounds  of  selected  feathers.  Cap- 
tain Heady's  description  of  Bogue  Inlet  was  not 
encouraging  for  the  future  prosperity  of  this 
coast,  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  all  the  inlets 
between  it  and  Cape  Fear. 

Rainy  weather  kept  me  within  doors  until 
Friday,  the  yth  of  January,  when  I  rowed  down 
White  Oak  River  to  Bogue  Inlet,  and  turned 
into  the  beach  thoroughfare,  which  led  me  three 
miles  and  a  half  to  Bear  Inlet.  My  course  now 
lay  through  creeks  among  the  marshes  to  the 
Stand-Back,  near  the  mainland,  where  the  tides 
between  the  two  inlets  head.  Across  this  shoal 
spot  I  traversed  tortuous  watercourses  with  mud 
flats,  from  which  beds  of  sharp  raccoon  oysters 
projected  and  scraped  the  keel  of  my  boat. 

The  sea  was  now  approached  from  the  main- 
land to  Brown's  Inlet,  where  the  tide  ran  like 
a  mill-race,  swinging  my  canoe  in  great  circles 
as  I  crossed  it  to  the  lower  side.  Here  I  took 
the  widest  thoroughfare,  and  left  the  beach  only 
to  retrace  my  steps  to  follow  one  nearer  the 
strand,  which  conducted  me  to  the  end  of  the 
natural  system  of  watercourses,  where  I  found  a 
ditch,  dug  seventy  years  before,  which  connected 
the  last  system  of  waters  with  another  series  of 
creeks  that  emptied  their  waters  into  New  River 
Inlet. 

Emerging  from  the  marshes,  my  course  led 
me  away  from  New  River  Inlet,  across  open 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  209 

sheets  of  water  to  the  mainland,  where  Dr. 
Ward's  cotton  plantation  occupied  a  large  and 
cultivated  area  in  the  wilderness.  It  was  nearly 
two  miles  from  his  estate  down  to  the  inlet. 
The  intervening  flats  among  the  island  marshes 
of  New  River  were  covered  with  natural  beds 
of  oysters,  upon  which  the  canoe  scraped  as  I 
crossed  to  the  narrow  entrance  of  Stump  Sound. 
Upon  rounding  a  point  of  land  I  found,  snugly 
ensconced  in  a  grove,  the  cot  of  an  oysterman, 
Captain  Risley  Lewis,  who,  after  informing  me 
that  his  was  the  last  habitation  to  be  found  in 
that  vicinity,  pressed  me  to  be  his  guest. 

The  next  day  proved  one  of  trial  to  patience 
and  muscle.  The  narrow  watercourses,  which 
like  a  spider's  web  penetrate  the  marshes  with 
numerous  small  sheets  of  water,  made  travelling 
a  most  difficult  task.  At  times  I  was  lost,  again 
my  canoe  was  lodged  upon  oyster-beds  in  the 
shallow  ponds  of  water,  the  mud  bottoms  of 
which  would  not  bear  my  weight  if  I  attempted 
to  get  overboard  to  lighten  the  little  craft. 

Alligator  Lake,  two  miles  in  width,  was  crossed 
without  seeing  an  alligator.  Saurians  are  first 
met  with,  as  the  traveller  proceeds  south,  in  the 
vicinity  of  Alligator  Creek  and  the  Neuse  River, 
in  the  latitude  of  Pamplico  Sound.  During  the 
cold  weather  they  hide  themselves  in  the  soft, 
muddy  bottoms  of  creeks  and  lagoons.  All  the 
negroes,  and  many  of  the  white  people  of  the 

H 


210  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

south,  assert,  that  when  captured  in  his  winter 
bed,  this  huge  reptile's  stomach  contains  the  hard 
knot  of  a  pine-tree;  but  for  what  purpose  he 
swallows  it  they  are  at  a  loss  to  explain. 

In  twelve  miles  of  tortuous  windings  there 
appeared  but  one  sign  of  human  life  —  a  little 
cabin  on  a  ridge  of  upland  among  the  fringe 
of  marshes  that  bordered  on  Alligator  Lake.  It 
was  cheering  to  a  lonely  canoeist  to  see  this 
house,  and  the  clearing  around  it  with  the  sea- 
son's crop  of  corn  in  stacks  dotting  the  field. 
All  this  region  is  called  Stump  Sound;  but  that 
sheet  of  water  is  a  well-defined,  narrow,  lake- 
like  watercourse,  which  was  entered  not  long 
after  I  debouched  from  Alligator  Lake.  Stump 
Inlet  having  closed  up  eighteen  months  before 
my  visit,  the  sound  and  its  tributaries  received 
tidal  water  from  New  Topsail  Inlet. 

It  was  a  cold  and  rainy  evening  wrhen  I  sought 
shelter  in  an  old  boat-house,  at  a  landing  on 
Topsail  Sound,  soon  after  leaving  Stump  Sound. 
While  preparing  for  the  night's  camp,  the  son 
of  the  proprietor  of  the  plantation  discovered 
the,  to  him,  unheard-of  spectacle  of  a  paper  boat 
upon  the  gravelly  strand.  Filled  with  curiosity 
and  delight,  he  dragged  me,  paddle  in  hand, 
through  an  avenue  of  trees  to  a  hill  upon  which 
a  large  house  was  located.  This  was  the  boy's 
home.  Leaving  me  on  the  broad  steps  of  the 
veranda,  he  rushed  into  the  hall,  shouting  to 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.     211 

the  family,  "  Here's  a  sailor  who  has  come  from 
the  north  in  a  PAPER  boat." 

This  piece  of  intelligence  roused  the  good 
people  to  merriment.  "Impossible!"  "A  boat 
made  of  paper!  "  "Nonsense!" 

The  boy,  however,  would  not  be  put  down. 
"But  it  is  made  of  paper,  I  tell  you;  for  I 
pinched  it  and  stuck  my  nails  into  it,"  he  re- 
plied earnestly. 

*  You  are  crazy,  my  boy, "  some  one  re- 
sponded; "  a  paper  boat  never  could  go  through 
these  sounds,  the  coon  oysters  would  cut  it  in 
pieces.  Now  tell  us,  is  the  sailor  made  of 
paper,  like  his  boat?  " 

"  Indeed,  mother,  what  I  tell  you  is  true;  and, 
O,  I  forgot!  here's  the  sailor  on  the  steps,  where 
I  left  him."  In  an  instant  the  whole  family  were 
out  upon  the  veranda.  Seeing  my  embarrass- 
ment, they  tried,  like  well-bred  people,  to  check 
their  merriment,  while  I  explained  to  them  the 
way  in  which  the  boy  had  captured  me,  and 
proposed  at  once  returning  to  my  camp.  To 
this,  however,  they  would  not  listen;  and  the 
charming  wife  of  the  planter  extended  her  hand 
to  me,  as  she  said,  "  No,  sir,  you  will  not  go  back 
to  the  wet  landing  to  camp.  This  is  our  home, 
and  though  marauding  armies  during  the  late 
war  have  taken  from  us  our  wealth,  you  must 
share  with  us  the  little  we  have  left."  This  lady 
with  her  two  daughters,  who  inherited  her  beauty 


212  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

and  grace  of  manner,  did  all  in  their  power  to 
make  me  comfortable. 

Sunday  was  the  coldest  day  of  the  season;  but 
the  family,  whose  hospitality  I  enjoyed,  rode 
seven  miles  through  the  woods,  some  on  horse- 
back, some  in  the  carriage,  to  the  little  church 
in  a  heavy  pine  forest.  The  next  day  proved 
stormy,  and  the  driving  sleet  froze  upon  the 
trees  and  bound  their  limbs  and  boughs  together 
with  an  icy  veneer.  My  host,  Mr.  McMillan, 
kindly  urged  me  to  tarry.  During  my  stay  with 
him  I  ascertained  that  he  devoted  his  attention 
to  raising  ground-peas,  or  peanuts.  Along  the 
coast  of  this  part  of  North  Carolina  this  nut  is 
the  chief  product,  and  is  raised  in  immense 
quantities.  The  latter  state  alone  raises  annually 
over  one  hundred  thousand  bushels;  while  Vir- 
ginia and  Tennessee  produce,  some  years,  a  crop 
of  seven  hundred  thousand  bushels. 

Wednesday  opened  with  partially  clearing 
weather,  and  the  icy  covering  of  the  trees 
yielded  to  the  softening  influences  of  a  southern 
wind.  The  family  went  to  the  landing  to  see 
me  off,  and  the  kind  ladies  stowed  many  delica- 
cies, made  with  their  own  hands,  in  the  bow  of 
the  boat.  After  rowing  a  half-mile,  I  took  a 
lingering  look  at  the  shore,  where  those  who 
four  days  ago  were  strangers,  now  waved  an 
adieu  as  friends.  They  had  been  stript  of  their 
wealth,  though  the  kind  old  planter  had  never 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.     213 

raised  his  hand  against  the  government  of  his 
fathers.  This  family,  like  thousands  of  people 
in  the  south,  had  suffered  for  the  rash  deeds  of 
others.  While  the  political  views  of  this  gentle- 
man differed  from  those  of  the  stranger  from 
Massachusetts,  it  formed  no  barrier  to  their 
social  intercourse,  and  did  not  make  him  forget 
to  exhibit  the  warm  feelings  of  hospitality  which 
so  largely  influence  the  Southerner.  I  went  to 
him,  as  a  traveller  in  search  of  truth,  upon  an 
honest  errand.  Under  such  circumstances  a 
Northerner  does  not  require  a  letter  of  introduc- 
tion to  nine  out  of  ten  of  the  citizens  of  the 
fifteen  ex-slave  states,  wrhich  cover  an  area  of 
eight  hundred  and  eighty  thousand  square  miles, 
and  where  fourteen  millions  of  people  desire  to 
be  permitted  to  enjoy  the  same  privileges  as  the 
Constitution  of  the  United  States  guarantees  to 
all  the  states  north  of  Mason  and  Dixon's  line. 

From  Sloop  Landing,  on  my  new  friends' 
plantation,  to  New  Topsail  Inlet  I  had  a  brisk 
row  of  five  miles.  Vessels  drawing  eight  feet  of 
water  can  reach  this  landing  from  the  open  sea 
upon  a  full  tide.  The  sea  was  rolling  in  at  this 
ocean  door  as  my  canoe  crossed  it  to  the  next 
marsh  thoroughfare,  which  connected  it  with 
Old  Topsail  Inlet,  where  the  same  monotonous 
surroundings  of  sand-hills  and  marshes  are  to  be 
found. 

The  next  tidal  opening  was  Rich  Inlet,  which 


214  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

had  a  strong  ebb  running  through  it  to  the 
sea.  From  it  I  threaded  the  thoroughfares  up 
to  the  mainland,  reaching  at  dusk  the  "Emma 
Nickson  Plantation."  The  creeks  were  growing 
more  shallow,  and  near  the  bulkhead,  or  middle- 
ground,  where  tides  from  two  inlets  met,  there 
was  so  little  water  and  so  many  oyster  reefs,  that, 
without  a  chart,  the  route  grew  more  and  more 
perplexing  in  character.  It  was  a  distance  of 
thirty  miles  to  Cape  Fear,  and  twenty  miles 
to  New  Inlet,  which  was  one  of  the  mouths 
of  Cape  Fear  River.  From  the  plantation  to 
New  Inlet,  the  shallow  interior  sheets  of  water 
with  their  marshes  were  called  Middle,  Mason- 
boro,  and  Myrtle  sounds.  The  canoe  could 
have  traversed  these  waters  to  the  end  of  Myr- 
tle Sound,  which  is  separated  from  Cape  Fear 
River  by  a  strip  of  land  only  one  mile  and  a 
half  wide,  across  which  a  portage  can  be  made 
to  the  river.  Barren  and  Masonboro  are  the  only 
inlets  which  supply  the  three  little  sounds  above 
mentioned  with  water,  after  Rich  Inlet  is  passed. 
The  coast  from  Cape  Fear  southward  eighty 
miles,  to  Georgetown,  South  Carolina,  has  several 
small  inlets  through  the  beach,  but  there  are  no 
interior  waters  parallel  with  the  coast  in  all  that 
distance,  which  can  be  of  any  service  to  the 
canoeist  for  a  coast  route.  It  therefore  became 
necessary  for  me  to  follow  the  next  watercourse 
that  could  be  utilized  for  reaching  Winyah  Bay, 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  215 

which  is  the  first  entrance  to  the  system  of  con- 
tinuous watercourses  south  of  Cape  Fear. 

The  trees  of  the  Nickson  Plantation  hid  the 
house  of  the  proprietor  from  view;  but  upon 
beaching  my  canoe,  a  drove  of  hogs  greeted  me 
with  friendly  grunts,  as  if  the  hospitality  of  their 
master  infected  the  drove;  and,  as  it  grew  dark, 
they  trotted  across  the  field,  conducting  me  up 
to  the  very  doors  of  the  planter's  home,  where 
Captain  Mosely,  late  of  the  Confederate  army, 
gave  me  a  solcjier's  hearty  welcome. 

"  The  war  is  over,"  he  said,  "  and  any  northern 
gentleman  is  welcome  to  what  we  have  left." 
Until  midnight,  this  keen-eyed,  intelligent  officer 
entertained  me  with  a  flow  of  anecdotes  of  the 
war  times,  his  hair-breadth  escapes,  &c.;  the 
conversation  being  only  interrupted  when  he 
paused  to  pile  wood  upon  the  fire,  the  chimney- 
place  meantime  glowing  like  a  furnace.  He 
told  me  that  Captain  Maffitt,  of  the  late  Confed- 
erate navy,  lived  at  Masonboro,  on  the  sound; 
and  that  had  I  called  upon  him,  he  could  have 
furnished,  as  an  old  officer  of  the  Coast  Survey, 
much  valuable  geographical  information.  This 
pleasant  conversation  was  at  last  interrupted 
by  the  wife  of  my  host,  who  warned  us  in  her 
courteous  way  of  the  lateness  of  the  hour.  With 
a  good-night  to  my  host,  and  a  sad  farewell 
to  the  sea,  I  prepared  myself  for  the  morrow's 
journey. 


2l6  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

FROM   CAPE   FEAR   TO    CHARLESTON,    SOUTH 
CAROLINA. 

A  PORTAGE  TO  LAKE  WACCAMAW.  —  THE  SUBMERGED  SWAMPS. — 
NIGHT  AT  A  TURPENTINE  DISTILLERY. — A  DISMAL  WILDER- 
NESS.—  OWLS  AND  MISTLETOE.  —  CRACKERS  AND  NEGROES.— 
ACROSS  THE  SOUTH  CAROLINA  LINE.  —  A.  CRACKER'S  IDEA  OF 
HOSPITALITY.  —  POT  BLUFF.  —  PEEDEE  RIVER.  —  GEORGETOWN. 
—  WINYAH  BAY.  —  THE  RICE  PLANTATIONS  OF  THE  SANTEE 
RIVERS. — A  NIGHT  WITH  THE  SANTEE  NEGROES. —  ARRIVAL 
AT  CHARLESTON. 

TO  reach  my  next  point  of  embarkation  a 
portage  was  necessary.  Wilmington  was 
twelve  miles  distant,  and  I  reached  the  railroad 
station  of  that  city  with  my  canoe  packed  in  a 
bed  of  corn-husks,  on  a  one-horse  dray,  in  time 
to  take  the  evening  train  to  Flemington,  on  Lake 
Waccamaw.  The  polite  general  freight-agent, 
Mr.  A.  Pope,  allowed  my  canoe  to  be  transported 
in  the  passenger  baggage-car,  where,  as  it  had 
no  covering,  I  was  obliged  to  steady  it  during 
the  ride  of  thirty-two  miles,  to  protect  it  from 
the  friction  caused  by  the  motion  of  the  train. 

Mr.  Pope  quietly  telegraphed  to  the  few  families 
at  the  lake,  "Take  care  of  the  paper  canoe; "  so 
when  my  destination  was  reached,  kind  voices 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.      2IJ 

greeted  me  through  the  darkness  and  offered  me 
the  hospitalities  of  Mrs.  Brothers'  home-like  inn 
at  the  Flemington  Station.  After  Mr.  Carroll  had 
conveyed  the  boat  to  his  storehouse,  we  all  sat 
down  to  tea  as  sociably  as  though  we  were  old 
friends. 

On  the  morrow  we  carried  the  Maria  Theresa 
on  our  shoulders  to  the  little  lake,  out  of  which 
the  long  and  crooked  river  with  its  dark  cypress 
waters  flowed  to  the  sea.  A  son  of  Mr.  Short, 
a  landed  proprietor  who  holds  some  sixty  thou- 
sand acres  of  the  swamp  lands  of  the  Waccamaw, 
escorted  me  in  his  yacht,  with  a  party  of  ladies 
and  gentlemen,  five  miles  across  the  lake  to  my 
point  of  departure.  It  was  now  noon,  and  our 
little  party  picnicked  under  the  lofty  trees  which 
rise  from  the  low  shores  of  Lake  Waccamaw. 

A  little  later  we  said  our  adieu,  and  the  paper 
canoe  shot  into  the  whirling  current  which  rushes 
out  of  the  lake  through  a  narrow  aperture  into 
a  great  and  dismal  swamp.  Before  leaving  the 
party,  Mr.  Carroll  had  handed  me  a  letter  ad- 
dressed to  Mr.  Hall,  who  was  in  charge  of  a 
turpentine  distillery  on  my  route.  "  It  is  twenty 
miles  by  the  river  to  my  friend  Hall's,"  he  said, 
"  but  in  a  straight  line  the  place  is  just  four 
miles  from  here."  Such  is  the  character  of  the 
Waccamaw,  this  most  crooked  of  rivers. 

I  had  never  been  on  so  rapid  and  continuous 
a  current.  As  it  whirled  me  along  the  narrow 


2l8  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

watercourse  I  was  compelled  to  abandon  my 
oars  and  use  the  paddle  in  order  to  have  my  face 
to  the  bow,  as  the  abrupt  turns  of  the  stream 
seemed  to  wall  me  in  on  every  side.  Down 
the  tortuous,  black,  rolling  current  went  the 
paper  canoe,  with  a  giant  forest  covering  the 
great  swamp  and  screening  me  from  the  light 
of  day.  The  swamps  were  submerged,  and  as 
the  water  poured  out  of  the  thickets  into  the 
river  it  would  shoot  across  the  land  from  one 
bend  to  another,  presenting  in  places  the  mysti- 
fying spectacle  of  water  running  up  stream,  but 
not  up  an  inclined  plain.  Festoons  of  gray 
Spanish  moss  hung  from  the  weird  limbs  of 
monster  trees,  giving  a  funeral  aspect  to  the 
gloomy  forest,  while  the  owls  hooted  as  though 
it  were  night.  The  creamy,  wax-like  berries 
of  the  mistletoe  gave  a  Druidical  aspect  to  the 
woods,  for  this  parasite  grew  upon  the  branches 
of  many  trees. 

One  spot  only  of  firm  land  rose  from  the  water 
in  sixteen  miles  of  paddling  from  the  lake,  and 
passing  it,  I  went  flying  on  with  the  turbulent 
stream  four  miles  further,  to  where  rafts  of  logs 
blocked  the  river,  and  the  sandy  banks,  covered 
with  the  upland  forest  of  pines,  encroached  upon 
the  lowlands.  This  was  Old  Dock,  with  its 
turpentine  distillery  smoking  and  sending  out 
resinous  vapors. 

Young  Mr.  Hall  read  my  letter  and   invited 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  219 

me  to  his  temporary  home,  which,  though 
roughly  built  of  unplaned  boards,  possessed  two 
comfortable  rooms,  and  a  large  fireplace,  in 
which  light-wood,  the  terebinthine  heart  of  the 
pine-tree,  was  cheerfully  blazing. 

I  had  made  the  twenty  miles  in  three  hours, 
but  the  credit  of  this  quick  time  must  be  given 
to  the  rapid  current.  My  host  did  not  seem 
well  pleased  with  the  solitude  imposed  upon 
him.  His  employers  had  sent  him  from  Wil- 
mington, to  hold  and  protect  "their  turpentine 
farm,"  which  was  a  wilderness  of  trees  covering 
four  thousand  acres,  and  was  valued,  with  its 
distillery,  at  five  thousand  dollars.  An  old 
negro,  who  attended  the  still  and  cooked  the 
meals,  was  his  only  companion. 

We  had  finished  our  frugal  repast,  when  a 
man,  shouting  in  the  darkness,  approached  the 
house  on  horseback.  This  individual,  though 
very  tipsy,  represented  Law  and  Order  in  that 
district,  as  I  was  informed  when  "Jim  Gore,"  a 
justice  of  the  peace,  saluted  me  in  a  boisterous 
manner.  Seating  himself  by  the  fire,  he  ear- 
nestly inquired  for  the  bottle.  His  stomach,  he 
said,  was  as  dry  as  a  lime-kiln,  and,  though  wa- 
ter answers  to  slake  lime,  he  demanded  some- 
thing stronger  to  slake  the  fire  that  burned  with- 
in him.  He  was  very  suspicious  of  me  when 
Hall  told  him  of  my  canoe  journey.  After 
eying  me  from  head  to  toe  in  as  steady  a  manner 


220  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

as  he  was  capable  of,  he  broke  forth  with:  "Now, 
stranger,  this  won't  do.  What  are  ye  a-travel- 
ling  in  this  sort  of  way  for,  in  a  paper  dug-out?" 

I  pleaded  a  strong  desire  to  study  geography, 
but  the  wise  fellow  replied: 

"Geography!  geography!  Why,  the  fellers 
who  rite  geography  never  travel;  they  stay  at 
home  and  spin  their  yarns  'bout  things  they 
never  sees."  Then,  glancing  at  his  poor  butter- 
nut coat  and  pantaloons,  he  felt  my  blue  woollen 
suit,  and  continued,  in  a  slow,  husky  voice: 
"  Stranger,  them  clothes  cost  something ';  they 
be  store-clothes.  That  paper  dug-out  cost  money, 
I  tell  ye;  and  it  costs  something  to  travel  the  hull 
length  of  the  land.  No,  stranger;  if  ye  be  not 
on  a  bet,  then  somebody's  a-paying  ye  well  for  it." 

For  an  hour  I  entertained  this  roughest  of  law 
dignitaries  with  an  account  of  my  long  row,  its 
trials  and  its  pleasures.  He  became  interested 
in  the  story,  and  finally  related  to  me  his  own 
aspirations,  and  the  difficulties  attending  his  ef- 
forts to  make  the  piny-woods  people  respect  the 
laws  and  good  government.  He  then  described 
the  river  route  through  the  swamps  to  the  sea, 
and,  putting  his  arm  around  me  in  the  most  affec- 
tionate manner,  he  mournfully  said: 

"O  stranger,  my  heart  is  with  ye;  but  O,  how 
ye  will  have  to  take  it  when  ye  go  past  those 
awful  wretches  to-morrow;  how  they  will  give 
it  to  ye !  They  most  knocked  me  off  my  raft, 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  221 

last  time  I  went  to  Georgetown.  Beware  of 
them;  I  warn  ye  in  time.  Dern  the  hussies." 

Squire  Jim  so  emphasized  the  danger  that  I 
became  somewhat  alarmed,  for,  more  than  any- 
thing else,  I  dreaded  an  outbreak  with  rough 
^women.  And  then,  too,  my  new  acquaintance 
informed  me  that  there  were  four  or  five  of  these 
wretches,  of  the  worst  kind,  located  several 
miles  down  the  stream.  As  I  was  about  to  in- 
quire into  the  habits  of  these  ugly  old  crones, 
Mr.  Hall,  wishing  to  give  Squire  James  a  hint, 
remarked  that  Mr.  B might  at  any  time  re- 
tire to  the  next  room,  where  half  the  bed  was  at 
his  disposal. 

" Half  the  bed!"  roared  the  squire;  "here 
are  three  of  us,  and  where's  my  half?  " 

"Why,  squire,"  hesitatingly  responded  my 

host,  "  Mr.  B is  my  guest,  and  having  but 

one  bed,  he  must  have  half  'of  it  —  no  less." 

"Then  what's  to  become  of  me?"  thundered 
his  Majesty  of  the  law. 

Having  been  informed  that  a  shake-down 
would  have  been  ready  had  he  given  notice  of 
his  visit,  and  that  at  some  future  time,  when  not 
so  crowded,  he  could  be  entertained  like  a  gen- 
tleman, he  drew  himself  up,  wrapped  in  the 
mantle  of  dignity,  and  replied: 

"None  of  that  soft  talk,  my  friend.  This 
man  is  a  traveller;  let  him  take  travellers' 
luck  —  three  in  a  bed  to-night.  I'm  bound 


222  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

to  sleep  with  him  to-night.  Hall,  where's  the 
bottle?" 

I  now  retired  to  the  back  room,  and,  without 
undressing,  planted  myself  on  the  side  of  the 
bed  next  the  wall.  Sleep  was,  however,  an  un- 
attainable luxury,  with  the  squire's  voice  in  the 
next  room,  as  he  told  how  the  country  was  going 
to  the  dogs,  because  "  niggers  and  white  folks 
wouldn't  respect  the  laws.  It  took  half  a  man's 
time  to  larn  it  to  'em,  and  much  thanks  he  ever 
got  by  setting  everybody  to  rights."  He  wound 
up  by  lecturing  Hall  for  being  so  temperate, 
his  diligent  search  in  all  directions  for  bottles  or 
jugs  being  rewarded  by  finding  them  filled  with 
unsatisfactory  emptiness. 

He  then  tumbled  into  the  centre  of  the  bed, 
crowding  me  close  against  the  wall.  Poor  Hall, 
having  the  outside  left  to  him,  spent  the  night  in 
exercising  his  brain  and  muscles  in  vain  attempts 
to  keep  in  his  bed;  for  when  his  Majesty  of  the 
law  put  his  arms  akimbo,  the  traveller  went  to 
the  wall,  and  the  host  to  the  floor.  Thus  passed 
my  first  night  in  the  great  swamps  of  the  Wac- 
camaw  River. 

The  negro  cook  gave  us  an  early  breakfast  of 
bacon,  sweet  potatoes,  and  corn  bread.  The 
squire  again  looked  round  for  the  bottle,  and 
again  found  nothing  but  emptiness.  He  helped 
me  to  carry  my  canoe  along  the  unsteady  footing 
of  the  dark  swamp  to  the  lower  side  of  the 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  223 

raft  of  logs,  and  warmly  pressed  my  hand  as  he 

whispered:  "My  clear  B ,  I  shall  think  of 

you  until  you  get  past  those  dreadful  ?  wretches.' 
Keep  an  eye  on  your  little  boat,  or  they'll  devil 
you." 

Propelled  by  my  double  paddle,  the  canoe 
seemed  to  fly  through  the  great  forest  that  rose 
with  its  tall  trunks  and  weird,  moss-draped 
arms,  out  of  the  water.  The  owls  were  still 
hooting.  Indeed,  the  dolorous  voice  of  this  bird 
of  darkness  sounded  through  the  heavy  woods 
at  intervals  throughout  the  day.  I  seemed  to 
have  left  the  real  world  behind  me,  and  to  have 
entered  upon  a  landless  region  of  sky,  trees,  and 
water. 

"  Beware  of  the  cut-offs,"  said  Hall,  before  I 
left.  "  Only  the  Crackers  and  shingle-makers 
know  them.  If  followed,  they  would  save  you 
many  a  mile,  but  every  opening  through  the 
swamp  is  not  a  cut-off.  Keep  to  the  main 
stream,  though  it  be  more  crooked  and  longer. 
If  you  take  to  the  cut-offs,  you  may  get  into 
passages  that  will  lead  you  off  into  the  swamps 
and  into  interior  bayous,  from  which  you  will 
never  emerge.  Men  have  starved  to  death  in 
such  places." 

So-  I  followed  the  winding  stream,  which 
turned  back  upon  itself,  running  north  and  south, 
and  east  and  west,  as  if  trying  to  box  the  com- 
pass by  following  the  sun  in  its  revolution.  After 


224  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

paddling  down  one  bend,  I  could  toss  a  stick 
through  the  trees  into  the  stream  where  the  canoe 
had  cleaved  its  waters  a  quarter  of  a  mile  be- 
hind me. 

The  thought  of  what  I  should  do  in  this  land- 
less region  if  my  frail  shell,  in  its  rapid  flight  to 
the  sea,  happened  to  be  pierced  by  a  snag,  was, 
to  say  the  least,  not  a  comforting  one.  On  what 
could  I  stand  to  repair  it?  To  climb  a  tree 
seemed,  in  such  a  case,  the  only  resource;  and 
then  what  anxious  waiting  there  would  be  for 
some  cypress-shingle  maker,  in  his  dug-out  ca- 
noe, to  come  to  the  rescue,  and  take  the  traveller 
from  his  dangerous  lodgings  between  heaven  and 
earth;  or  it  might  be  that  no  one  would  pass  that 
way,  and  the  wreary  waiting  would  be  even  unto 
death. 

But  sounds  now  reached  my  ears  that  made 
me  feel  that  I  was  not  quite  alone  in  this  desolate 
swamp.  The  gray  squirrels  scolded  among  the 
tree-tops;  robins,  the  brown  thrush,  and  a  large 
black  woodpecker  with  his  bright  red  head, 
each  reminded  me  of  Him  without  whose  notice 
not  a  sparrow  falleth  to  the  ground. 

Ten  miles  of  this  black  current  were  passed 
over,  when  the  first  signs  of  civilization  appeared, 
in  the  shape  of  a  sombre-looking,  two-storied 
house,  located  upon  a  point  of  the  mainland 
which  entered  the  swamp  on  the  left  shore  of 
the  river.  At  this  point  the  river  widened  to  five 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  225 

or  six  rods,  and  at  intervals  land  appeared  a  few 
inches  above  the  water.  Wherever  the  pine 
land  touched  the  river  a  pig-pen  of  rails  offered 
shelter  and  a  gathering-place  for  the  hogs, 
which  are  turned  loose  by  the  white  Cracker 
to  feed  upon  the  roots  and  mast  of  the  wilder- 
ness. 

Reeve's  Ferry,  on  the  right  bank,  with  a  little 
store  and  turpentine-still,  twenty  miles  from  Old 
Dock,  was  the  next  sign  of  the  presence  of  man 
in  this  swamp.  The  river  now  became  broad  as 
I  approached  Piraway  Ferry,  which  is  two  miles 
below  Piraway  Farm.  Remembering  the  warn- 
ings of  the  squire  as  to  the  "  awful  wretches  in 
the  big  pine  woods,"  I  kept  a  sharp  lookout  for 
the  old  women  who  were  to  give  me  so  much 
trouble,  but  the  raftsmen  on  the  river  explained 
that  though  Jim  Gore  had  told  me  the  truth,  I 
had  misunderstood  his  pronunciation  of  the  word 
reaches,  or  river  bends,  which  are  called  in 
this  vicinity  'wretches.  The  reaches  referred  to 
by  Mr.  Gore  were  so  long  and  straight  as  to 
afford  open  passages  for  wind  to  blow  up  them, 
and  these  fierce  gusts  of  head  winds  give  the 
raftsmen  much  trouble  while  poling  their  rafts 
against  them. 

My  Tears  of  ill  treatment  were  now  at  rest,  for 
my  tiny  craft,  with  her  sharp-pointed  bow,  was 
well  adapted  for  such  work.  Landing  at  the 
ferry  where  a  small  scow  or  flat-boat  was  resting 


226  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

upon  the  firm  land,  the  ferryman,  Mr.  Daniel 
Dunkin,  would  not  permit  me  to  camp  out  of 
doors  while  his  log-cabin  was  only  one  mile 
away  on  the  pine-covered  uplands.  He  told  me 
that  the  boundary-line  between  North  and  South 
Carolina  crossed  this  swamp  three  and  a  half 
miles  below  Piraway  Ferry,  and  that  the  first 
town  on  the  river  Waccamaw,  in  South  Carolina, 
Conwayborough,  was  a  distance  of  ninety  miles 
by  river  and  only  thirty  miles  by  land.  There 
was  but  one  bridge  over  the  river,  from  its  head 
to  Conwayborough,  and  it  was  built  by  Mr. 
James  Wortham,  twenty  years  before,  for  his 
plantation.  This  bridge  was  twenty  miles  below 
Piraway,  and  from  it  by  land  to  a  settlement  on 
Little  River,  winch  empties  into  the  Atlantic, 
was  a  distance  of  only  five  miles.  A  short  canal 
would  connect  this  river  and  its  lumber  regions 
with  Little  River  and  the  sea. 

For  the  first  time  in  my  experience  as  a  trav- 
eller I  had  entered  a  country  where  the  miles 
were  short.  When  fifteen  years  old  I  made  my 
first  journey  alone  and  on  foot  from  the  vicinity 
of  Boston  to  the  White  Mountains  of  New 
Hampshire.  This  boyish  pedestrian  trip  occu- 
pied about  twenty-one  days,  and  covered  some 
three  hundred  miles  of  hard  tramping.  New 
England  gives  honest  measure  on  the  finger- 
posts along  her  highways.  The  traveller  learns 
by  well-earned  experience  the  length  of  her 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  227 

miles;  but  in  the  wilderness  of  the  south  there 
is  no  standard  of  five  thousand  two  hundred  and 
eighty  feet  to  a  statute  mile,  and  the  watermen 
along  the  sea-coast  are  ignorant  of  the  fact  that 
one-sixtieth  of  a  degree  of  latitude  (about  six 
thousand  and  eighty  feet)  is  the  geographical 
and  nautical  mile  of  the  cartographer,  as  well 
as  the  "  knot"  of  the  sailor. 

At  Piraway  Ferry  no  two  of  the  raftsmen  and 
lumbermen,  ignorant  or  educated,  would  give  the 
same  distance,  either  upon  the  lengths  of  surveyed 
roads  or  unmeasured  rivers.  "  It  is  one  hundred 
and  sixty-five  miles  by  river  from  Piraway  Ferry 
to  Conwayborough,"  said  one  who  had  travelled 
the  route  for  years.  The  most  moderate  estimate 
made  was  that  of  ninety  miles  by  river.  The 
reader,  therefore,  must  not  accuse  me  of  over- 
stating distances  while  absent  from  the  seaboard, 
as  my  friends  of  the  Coast  Survey  Bureau  have 
not  yet  penetrated  into  these  interior  regions  with 
their  theodolites,  plane-tables,  and  telametre- 
rods.  To  the  canoeist,  who  is  ambitious  to  score 
up  miles  instead  of  collecting  geographical  notes, 
these  wild  rivers  afford  an  excellent  opportunity 
to  satisfy  his  aims. 

From  sixty  to  eighty  miles  can  be  rowed  in 
ten  hours  as  easily  as  forty  miles  can  be  gone 
over  upon  a  river  of  slow  current  in  the  nor- 
thern states.  There  is,  I  am  sorry  to  say, 
a  class  of  American  travellers  who  "  do"  all  the 


228  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

capitals  of  Europe  in  the  same  business-like  way, 
and  if  they  have  anything  to  say  in  regard  to 
every-day  life  in  the  countries  through  which 
they  pass,  they  forget  to  thank  the  compiler  of 
the  guide-book  for  the  information  they  possess. 

There  was  but  one  room  in  the  cabin  of  my 
new  acquaintance,  who  represented  that  class  of 
piny-woods  people  called  in  the  south — because 
they  subsist  largely  upon  corn,  —  Corn  Crackers, 
or  Crackers.  These  Crackers  are  the  "  poor  white 
folks  "  of  the  planter,  and  "  de  white  trash  "  of 
the  old  slave,  who  now  as  a  freedman  is  begin- 
ning to  feel  the  responsibility  of  his  position. 

These  Crackers  are  a  very  kind-hearted  people, 
but  few  of  them  can  read  or  write.  The  children 
of  the  negro,  filled  with  curiosity  and  a  new- 
born pride,  whenever  opportunity  permits,  at- 
tend the  schools  in  large  numbers;  but  the  very 
indolent  white  man  seems  to  be  destitute  of  all 
ambition,  and  his  children,  in  many  places  in  the 
south,  following  close  in  the  father's  footsteps, 
grow  up  in  an  almost  unimaginable  ignorance. 

The  news  of  the  arrival  of  the  little  Maria 
Theresa  at  Piraway  Ferry  spread  with  astonish- 
ing rapidity  through  the  woods,  and  on  Sunday, 
after  "de  shoutings,"  as  the  negroes  call  their 
meetings,  were  over,  the  blacks  came  in  num- 
bers to  see  "  dat  Yankee-man's  paper  canno." 

These  simple  people  eyed  me  from  head  to  foot 
with  a  grave  sort  of  curiosity,  their  great  mouths 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  229 

open,  displaying  pearly  teeth  of  which  a  white 
man  might  well  be  proud.  "You  is  a  good  man, 
capt'n  —  we  knows  dat,"  they  said ;  and  when  I 
asked  why,  the  answer  showed  their  childlike 
faith.  :r 'Cause  you  couldn't  hab  come  all  dis 
way  in  a  paper  boat  if  de  Lord  hadn't  helped 
you.  He  dono  help  only  good  folks." 

The  Cracker  also  came  with  his  children  to 
view  the  wonder,  while  the  raftsmen  were  so 
struck  with  the  advantages  of  my  double  paddle, 
which  originated  with  the  inhabitants  of  the 
Arctic  regions,  that  they  laid  it  upon  a  board  and 
drew  its  outlines  with  chalk.  They  vowed  they 
would  introduce  it  upon  the  river. 

These  Crackers  declared  it  would  take  more 
than  "  de  shoutings,"  or  any  other  religious 
service,  to  improve  the  moral  condition  of 
the  blacks.  They  openly  accused  the  colored 
preachers  of  disturbing  the  nocturnal  rest  of 
their  hens  and  turkeys;  and  as  to  hog-stealing 
and  cow-killing,  "Why,  we  won't  have  any  crit- 
ters left  ef  this  carpet-bag  government  lasts  much 
longer!"  they  feelingly  exclaimed. 

"We  does  nothing  to  nobody.  We  lets  the 
niggers  alone;  but  niggers  will  steal  —  they  can't 
help  it,  the  poor  devils;  it's  in 'em.  Now,  ef  they 
eats  us  out  of  house  and  home,  what  can  a  poor 
man  do?  They  puts  'em  up  for  justices  of  peace, 
and  sends  'em  to  the  legislature,  when  they  can't 
read  more'n  us;  and  they  do  say  it's  'cause  we 


230     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

fit  in  the  Confederate  sarvice  that  they  razes  the 
nigger  over  our  heads.  Now,  does  the  folkes  up 
north  like  to  see  white  people  tyrannized  over 
by  niggers?  Jes  tell  'em  when  you  go  back, 
stranger,  that  we's  got  soulds  like  yours  up 
north,  and  we's  got  feelings  too,  by  thunder!  jes 
like  other  white  men.  This  was  a  white  man's 
country  once  —  now  it's  all  niggers  and  dogs. 
Why,  them  niggers  in  the  legislature  has  spit- 
boxes  lined  with  gold  to  spit  in!  What's  this 
country  a-coming  to?  We  wish  the  niggers  no 
harm  if  they  lets  our  hogs  and  chickens  alone." 

After  this  tirade  it  was  amusing  to  see  how 
friendly  the  whites  and  blacks  were.  The  Crack- 
ers conversed  with  these  children  of  Ham,  who 
had  been  stealing  their  hams  for  so  long  a  time, 
in  the  most  kindly  way,  realizing,  perhaps,  that 
they  had  various  peculiar  traits  of  their  own,  and 
must,  after  all,  endure  their  neighbors. 

A  traveller  should  place  facts  before  his  read- 
ers, and  leave  to  them  the  drawing  of  the  moral. 
Northern  men  and  women  who  go  to  the  south- 
ern states  and  reside  for  even  the  short  space  of 
a  year  or  two,  invariably  change  their  life-long 
views  and  principles  regarding  the  negro  as  a 
moral  and  social  creature.  When  these  people 
return  to  their  homes  in  Maine  or  Massachusetts 
(as  did  the  representatives  of  the  Granges  of  the 
northern  states  after  they  had  visited  South  Caro- 
lina in  1875)  a  new  light,  derived  from  contact 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  23! 

with  facts,  dawns  upon  them,  while  their  sur- 
prised and  untravelled  neighbors  say:  "So  you 
have  become  Southern  in  your  views.  I  never 
would  have  thought  that  of  you.'''' 

The  railroad  has  become  one  of  the  great  me- 
diums of  enlightenment  to  mankind,  and  joins  in 
a  social  fraternity  the  disunited  elements  of  a 
country.  God  grant  that  the  resources  of  the 
great  South  may  soon  be  developed  by  the  capi- 
tal and  free  labor  of  the  North.  Our  sister  states 
of  the  South,  exhausted  by  the  struggles  of  the 
late  war  which  resulted  in  consolidating  more 
firmly  than  ever  the  great  Union,  are  now  ready 
to  receive  ever}*  honest  effort  to  develop  their 
wealth  or  cultivate  their  territory.  Let  every 
national  patriot  give  up  narrowness  of  views  and 
sectional  selfishness  and  become  acquainted  with 
(not  the  politicians)  the  people  of  the  New 
South,  and  a  harmony  of  feeling  will  soon  pos- 
sess the  hearts  of  all  true  lovers  of  a  government 
of  the  people. 

The  swamp  tributaries  were  swelling  the  river 
into  a  very  rapid  torrent  as  I  paddled  away  from 
the  ferry  on  Monday,  January  18.  A  warmer 
latitude  having  been  reached,  I  could  dispense 
with  one  blanket,  and  this  I  had  presented  to  my 
kind  host,  who  had  refused  to  accept  payment 
for  his  hospitality.  He  was  very  proud  of  his 
present,  and  said,  feelingly,  "  No  one  shall  touch 
this  but  me."  His  good  wife  had  baked  some 


232  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

of  a  rich  and  very  nice  variety  of  sweet-potatoes, 
unlike  those  we  get  in  New  Jersey  or  the  other 
Middle  States — which  potatoes  she  kindly  added 
to  my  stores.  They  are  not  dry  or  mealy  when 
cooked,  but  seem  saturated  with  honey.  The 
poor  woman's  gift  now  occupied  the  space  for- 
merly taken  up  by  the  blanket  I  had  given  her 
husband. 

From  this  day,  as  latitude  after  latitude  was 
crossed  on  my  way  southward,  I  distributed 
every  article  I  could  spare,  among  these  poor, 
kind-hearted  people.  Mr.  Macgregor  went  in 
his  Rob  Roy  canoe  over  the  rivers  of  Europe, 
"  diffusing  cheerfulness  and  distributing  Evangel- 
ical tracts."  I  had  no  room  for  tracts,  and  if  I 
had  followed  the  example  of  my  well-inten- 
tioned predecessor  in  canoeing,  it  would  have 
served  the  cause  of  truth  or  creed  but  little. 
The  Crackers  could  not  read,  and  but  few  of 
the  grown  negroes  had  been  taught  letters. 
They  did  not  want  books,  but  tobacco.  Men 
and  women  hailed  me  from  the  banks  as  I  glided 
along  in  my  canoe,  with,  "  Say,  captain,  hab  you 
eny  'bacca  or  snuff  for  dis  chile?"  Poor  hu- 
manity! The  Cracker  and  the  freedman  fill 
alike  their  places  according  to  the  light  they 
possess.  Do  we,  who  have  been  taught  from 
our  youth  sacred  things,  do  more  than  this? 
Do  we  love  our  neighbor  as  ourself  ? 

For  twenty  miles  (local  authority)  I  journeyed 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  233 

down  the  stream,  without  seeing  a  human  being 
or  a  dwelling-place,  to  Stanley's  house  and  the 
bridge;  from  which  I  urged  the  canoe  thirty-five 
miles  further,  passing  an  old  field  on  a  bluff, 
when  darkness  settled  on  the  swamps,  and  a 
heavy  mist  rose  from  the  waters  and  enveloped 
the  forests  in  its  folds.  With  not  a  trace  of  land 
above  water  I  groped  about,  running  into  what 
appeared  to  be  openings  in  the  submerged  land, 
only  to  find  my  canoe  tangled  in  thickets.  It 
was  useless  to  go  further,  and  I  prepared  to 
ascend  to  the  forks  of  a  giant  tree,  with  a  light 
rope,  to  be  used  for  lashing  my  body  into  a  safe 
position,  when  a  long,  low  cry  engaged  nfy  at- 
tention. 

"Waugh!  ho!  ho!  ho!  peig — peig — pe-ig — 
pe-ig,"  came  through  the  still,  thick  air.  It  was 
not  an  owl,  nor  a  catamount  that  cried  thus;  nor 
was  it  the  bark  of  a  fox.  It  was  the  voice  of  a 
Cracker  calling  in  his  hogs  from  the  forest. 
This  sound  was  indeed  pleasant  to  my  ears, 
for  I  knew  the  upland  was  near,  and  that  a 
warm  fire  awaited  my  benumbed  limbs  in  the 
cabin  of  this  unknown  man.  Pushing  the  canoe 
towards  the  sound,  and  feeling  the  submerged 
border  of  the  swamp  with  my  paddle,  I  struck 
the  upland  where  it  touched  the  water,  and  dis- 
embarking, felt  my  way  along  a  well-trodden 
path  to  a  little  clearing.  Here  a  drove  of  hogs 
were  crowding  around  their  owner,  who  was 


234  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

scattering  kernels  of  corn  about  him  as  he  vo- 
ciferated, "  pe-ig  —  pe-ig  —  pe-ig  —  pig  —  pig  — 
pig."  We  stood  face  to  face,  yet  neither  could 
see  the  face  of  the  other  in  the  darkness.  I  told 
my  tale,  and  asked  where  I  could  find  a  sheltered 
spot  to  camp. 

"  Stranger,"  slowly  replied  the  Cracker,  "  my 
cabin  's  close  at  hand.  Come  home  with  me. 
It's  a  bad  night  for  a  man  to  lay  out  in;  and  the 
niggers  would  steal  your  traps  if  they  knew  you 
had  anything  worth  taking.  Come  with  me." 

In  the  tall  pines  near  at  hand  was  a  cabin  of 
peeled  rails,  the  chinks  between  them  being 
stuffed  with  moss.  A  roof  of  cypress  shingles 
kept  the  rain  out.  The  log  chimney,  which  was 
plastered  with  mud,  was  built  outside  of  the 
walls  and  against  an  end  of  the  rustic-looking 
structure.  The  wide-mouthed  fireplace  sent 
forth  a  blaze  of  light  as  we  entered  the  poor 
man's  home.  I  saw  in  the  nicely  swept  floor, 
the  clean  bed-spreads,  and  the  general  neatness 
of  the  place,  the  character  of  Wilson  Edge's 
wife. 

"  Hog  and  hominy  's  our  food  here  in  the  piny 
woods,"  said  Mr.  Edge,  as  his  wife  invited  us  to 
the  little  table;  "  and  we've  a  few  eggs  now  and 
then  to  eat  with  sweet  potatoes,  but  it's  up-hill 
work  to  keep  the  niggers  from  killing  every  fowl 
and  animal  we  have.  The  carpet-bag  politicians 
promised  them  every  one,  for  his  vote,  forty  acres 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  235 

of  land  and  a  mule.  They  sed  as  how  the 
northern  government  was  a-going  to  give  it  to 
um;  but  the  poor  devils  never  got  any  thanks 
even  for  their  votes.  They  had  been  stuffed 
with  all  sorts  of  notions  by  the  carpet-baggers, 
and  I  don't  blame  um  for  putting  on  airs  and 
trying  to  rule  us.  It's  human  natur,  that's  all. 
We  don't  blame  the  niggers  half  so  much  as 
those  who  puts  it  in  their  heads  to  do  so;  but  it's 
hard  times  we've  had,  we  poor  woods  folks. 
They  took  our  children  for  the  cussed  war,  to 
fight  fur  niggers  and  rich  people  as  owned  um. 

"  We  never  could  find  out  what  all  the  fuss 
was  about;  but  when  Jeff  Davis  made  a  law  to 
exempt  every  man  from  the  army  who  owned 
fifteen  niggers,  then  our  blood  riz  right  up, 
and  we  sez  to  our  neighbors,  ?  This  ere  thing's 
a-getting  to  be  a  rich  man's  quarrel  and  a  poor 
man's  fight.'  After  all  they  dragged  off  my  boy 
to  Chambersburg,  Pennsylvania,  and  killed  him 
a  fighting  for  what?  Why,  for  rich  nigger 
owners.  Our  young  men  hid  in  the  swamps, 
but  they  were  hunted  up  and  forced  into  the 
army.  Niggers  has  been  our  ruin.  Ef  a  white 
man  takes  a  case  before  a  nigger  justice,  he 
gives  the  nigger  everything,  and  the  white  man 
has  to  stand  one  side.  Now,  would  you  folks  up 
north  like  to  have  a  nigger  justice  who  can't 
read  nor  count  ten  figgurs?" 

I  tried  to  comfort  the  poor  man,  by  assuring 


236  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

him  that  outside  of  the  political  enemies  of  our 
peace,  the  masses  in  the  north  were  honestly 
inclined  towards  the  south  now  that  slavery 
was  at  an  end;  and  that  wrong  could  not  long 
prevail,  with  the  cheerful  prospect  of  a  new 
administration,  and  the  removal  of  all  unconsti- 
tutional forces  that  preyed  upon  the  south. 

The  two  beds  in  the  single  room  of  the  cabin 
were  occupied  by  the  family;  while  I  slept  upon 
the  floor  by  the  lire,  with  my  blankets  for  a 
couch  and  a  roll  of  homespun  for  a  pillow, 
which  the  women  called  " heading"  They 
often  said,  "  Let  me  give  you  some  heading  for 
your  bed."  We  waited  until  eight  o'clock  the 
next  day  for  the  mists  to  rise  from  the  swamps. 
My  daily  trouble  was  now  upon  me.  How  could 
I  remunerate  a  southerner  for  his  cost  of  keep- 
ing me,  when  not,  in  the  true  sense  of  the  word, 
an  invited  guest  to  his  hospitality? 

Wilson  Edge  sat  by  the  fire,  while  his  wife 
and  little  ones  were  preparing  to  accompany  me 
to  see  the  paper  boat.  "  Mr.  Edge,"  I  stam- 
mered, "you  have  treated  me  with  great  kind- 
ness, your  wife  has  been  put  to  some  inconven- 
ience, as  I  came  in  so  unexpected  a  manner,  and 
you  will  really  oblige  me  if  you  will  accept  a 
little  money  for  all  this;  though  money  cannot 
pay  for  your  hospitality.  Grant  my  wish,  and 
you  will  send  me  away  with  a  light  heart." 
The  poor  Cracker  lowered  his  head  and  slowly 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.     237 

ran  his  fingers  through  his  coal  black  hair.  For 
a  moment  he  seemed  studying  a  reply,  and  then 
he  spoke  as  though  HE  represented  the  whole 
generous  heart  of  the  south. 

^Stranger"  he  slowly  articulated,  ^Stranger, 
I  have  known  'white  men  to  be  niggers  enough 
to  take  a  stranger's  money  for  lodgings  and 
vittles,  but  I  am  not  that  man" 

We  found  the  canoe  as  it  had  been  left  the 
night  before,  and  I  was  soon  pulling  down  the 
river.  The  great  wilderness  wTas  traversed  thirty 
miles  to  the  county  town  of  Conwayborough, 
where  the  negroes  roared  with  laughter  at  the 
working  of  the  double  paddle,  as  I  shot  past  the 
landing-place  where  cotton  and  naval  stores 
were  piled,  waiting  to  be  lightered  nine  miles  to 
Pot  Bluff,  —  so  called  from  the  fact  of  a  pot 
being  lost  from  a  vessel  near  it,  —  which  place 
is  reached  by  vessels  from  New  York  drawjng 
twelve  feet  of  water.  Though  still  a  long  dis- 
tance from  the  ocean,  I  was  beginning  to  feel  its 
tidal  influences.  At  Pot  Bluff,  the  landing  and 
comfortable  home  of  its  owner,  Mr.  Z.  W.  Du- 
senberry,  presented  a  pleasant  relief  after  the 
monotony  of  the  great  pine  forests.  This  enter- 
prising business  man  made  my  short  stay  a  very 
pleasant  one. 

Wednesday,  January  2Oth,  was  cold  for  this 
latitude,  and  ice  formed  in  thin  sheets  in  the 
water-pails.  Twenty-two  miles  below  Pot  Bluff, 


238  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

Bull  Creek  enters  the  Waccamaw  from  the  Pee- 
dee  River.  At  the  mouth  of  this  connecting 
watercourse  is  Tip  Top,  the  first  rice  plantation 
of  the  Waccamaw.  The  Peedee  and  its  sister 
stream  run  an  almost  parallel  course  from  Bull 
Creek  to  Winyah  Bay,  making  their  debouchure 
close  to  the  city  of  Georgetown.  Steam  saw- 
mills and  rice  plantations  take  the  place  of  the 
forests  from  a  few  miles  below  Tip  Top  to  the 
vicinity  of  Georgetown. 

Mr.  M.  L.  Blakely,  of  New  York,  one  of  the 
largest  shingle  manufacturers  of  the  south,  occu- 
pied as  his  headquarters  the  Bates  Hill  Planta- 
tion, on  the  Peedee.  This  gentleman  had  invited 
me,  through  the  medium  of  the  post-office,  to 
visit  him  in  the  rice-growing  regions  of  South 
Carolina.  To  reach  his  home  I  took  the  short 
"cut-off"  which  Bull  Creek  offered,  and  entered 
upon  the  strongest  of  head-currents.  The  thick, 
yellow,  muddy  torrent  of  the  Peedee  rushed 
through  Bull  Creek  with  such  volume,  that  I 
wondered  if  it  left  much  water  on  the  other  side, 
to  give  character  to  the  river,  as  it  followed  its 
own  channel  to  Winyah  Bay. 

One  and  a  half  miles  of  vigorous  paddling 
brought  me  to  a  branch  of  the  watercourse, 
which  is  much  narrower  than  the  main  one,  and 
is  consequently  called  Little  Bull  Creek.  This 
also  comes  from  the  Peedee  River,  and  its  source 
is  nearer  to  the  Bates  Hill  plantation  than  the 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  239 

main  Bull  Creek.  To  urge  the  canoe  up  this 
narrow  stream  three  miles  and  a  half  to  the 
parent  river  Peedee,  was  a  most  trying  ordeal. 
At  times  the  boat  would  not  move  a  hundred 
feet  in  five  minutes,  and  often,  as  my  strength 
seemed  failing  me,  I  caught  the  friendly  branches 
of  trees,  and  held  on  to  keep  the  canoe  from 
being  whirled  down  the  current  towards  the 
Waccamaw.  After  long  and  persistent  efforts 
had  exhausted  my  strength,  I  was  about  to  seek 
for  a  resting-place  in  the  swamp,  when  a  view 
of  the  broad  Peedee  opened  before  me,  and  with 
vigorous  strokes  of  the  paddle  the  canoe  slowly 
approached  the  mighty  current.  A  moment 
more  and  it  was  within  its  grasp,  and  went  flying 
down  the  turbulent  stream  at  the  rate  of  ten 
miles  an  hour. 

A  loud  halloo  greeted  me  from  the  swamp, 
where  a  party  of  negro  shingle-makers  were  at 
work.  They  manned  their  boat,  a  long  cypress 
dug-out,  and  followed  me.  Their  employer,  who 
proved  to  be  the  gentleman  whose  abiding-place 
I  was  now  rapidly  approaching,  sat  in  the  stern. 
We  landed  together  before  the  old  plantation- 
house,  which  had  been  occupied  a  few  years 
before  by  members  of  the  wealthy  and  powerful 
rice-planting  aristocracy  of  the  Peedee,  but  was 
now  the  temporary  home  of  a  northern  man, 
who  was  busily  employed  in  guiding  the  labors 


240  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

of  his  four  hundred  freedmen  in  the  swamps  of 
North  and  South  Carolina. 

The  paper  canoe  had  now  entered  the  regions 
of  the  rice-planter.  Along  the  low  banks  of  the 
Peedee  were  diked  marshes  where,  before  the 
civil  war,  each  estate  produced  from  five  thou- 
sand to  forty  thousand  bushels  of  rice  annually, 
and  the  lords  of  rice  were  more  powerful  than 
those  of  cotton,  though  cotton  was  king.  The 
rich  lands  here  produced  as  high  as  fifty-five 
bushels  of  rice  to  the  acre,  under  forced  slave 
labor;  now  the  free  blacks  cannot  wrest  from 
nature  more  than  twenty-five  or  thirty  bushels. 

Fine  old  mansions  lined  the  river's  banks,  but 
the  families  had  been  so  reduced  by  the  ravages 
of  war,  that  I  saw  refined  ladies,  who  had  been 
educated  in  the  schools  of  Edinburgh,  Scotland, 
overseeing  the  negroes  as  they  worked  in  the 
yards  of  the  rice-mills.  The  undaunted  spirit  of 
these  southern  ladies,  as  they  worked  in  their 
homes  now  so  desolate,  roused  my  admiration. 

A  light,  graceful  figure,  enveloped  in  an  old 
shawl,  and  mounted  on  an  old  horse,  flitted  about 
one  plantation  like  a  restless  spirit. 

"  That  lady's  father,"  said  a  gentleman  to  me, 
"owned  three  plantations,  worth  three  millions 
of  dollars,  before  the  war.  There  is  a  rice-mill 
on  one  of  the  plantations  which  cost  thirty  thou- 
sand dollars.  She  now  fights  against  misfortune, 
and  will  not  give  up.  The  Confederate  war 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  24! 

would  not  have  lasted  six  months  if  it  had  not 
been  for  our  women.  They  drove  thousands  of 
us  young  men  into  the  fight;  and  now,  having 
lost  all,  they  go  bravely  to  work,  even  taking  the 
places  of  their  old  servants  in  their  grand  old 
homes.  It's  hard  for  them,  though,  I  assure 
you." 

On  Tuesday,  January  25th,  I  paddled  down  the 
Peedee,  stopping  at  the  plantations  of  Dr.  Wes- 
ton  and  Colonel  Benjamin  Allston.  The  latter 
gentleman  was  a  son  of  one  of  the  governors  of 
South  Carolina.  He  kindly  gave  me  a  letter  of 
introduction  to  Commodore  Richard  Lowndes, 
who  lived  near  the  coast.  From  the  Peedee  I 
passed  through  a  cut  in  the  marshes  into  the 
broad  Waccamaw,  and  descended  it  to  Winyah 
Bay. 

Georgetown  is  located  between  the  mouths  of 
the  Peedee  and  Sampit  rivers.  Cautiously  ap- 
proaching the  city,  I  landed  at  Mr.  David  Ris- 
ley's  steam  saw-mills,  and  that  gentleman  kindly 
secreted  my  boat  in  a  back  counting-room,  while 
I  went  up  town  to  visit  the  post-office.  By  some, 
to  me,  unaccountable  means,  the  people  had 
heard  of  the  arrival  of  the  paper  boat,  and  three 
elaborately  dressed  negro  women  accosted  me 
with,  "  Please  show  wees  tree  ladies  de  little 
paper  boat." 

Before  I  had  reached  my  destination,  the  post- 
office,  a  body  of  men  met  me,  on  their  way  to 
16 


242  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

the  steam-mill.  The  crowd  forced  me  back  to 
the  canoe,  and  asked  so  many  questions  that  I 
was  sorely  taxed  to  find  answers  for  these  gen- 
tlemen. There  were  three  editors  in  the  crowd: 
two  were  white  men,  one  a  negro.  The  young 
men,  who  claimed  the  position  of  representatives 
of  the  spirit  of  the  place  and  of  the  times,  pub- 
lished "  The  Comet,"  while  the  negro,  as  though 
influenced  by  a  spirit  of  sarcasm,  conducted 
"The  Planet."  The  third  newspaper  repre- 
sented at  the  canoe  reception  was  the  "  George- 
town Times,"  which  courteously  noticed  the 
little  boat  that  had  come  so  far.  The  "  Planet " 
prudently  kept  in  the  dark,  and  said  nothing,  but 
"  The  Comet,"  representing  the  culture  of  the 
young  men  of  the  city,  published  the  following 
notice  of  my  arrival: 

"  Tom  Collins  has  at  last  arrived  in  his  won- 
derful paper  boat.  He  has  it  hitched  to  Mr. 
Risley's  new  saw-mill,  where  every  one  can 
have  a  view.  He  intends  shooting  off  his  six- 
pounder  before  weighing  anchor  in  the  morning. 
Hurrah  for  Collins." 

I  left  Mr.  Risley's  comfortable  home  before 
noon  the  next  day,  and  followed  the  shores  of 
Winyah  Bay  towards  the  sea.  Near  Battery 
White,  on  the  right  shore,  in  the  pine  forests, 
was  the  birth-place  of  Marion,  the  brave  patriot 
of  the  American  revolution,  whose  bugle's  call 
summoned  the  youth  of  those  days  to  arms. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  243 

When  near  the  inlet,  the  rice-plantation 
marshes  skirted  the  shore  for  some  distance. 
Out  of  these  wet  lands  flowed  a  little  stream, 
called  Mosquito  Creek,  which  once  connected 
the  North  Santee  River  with  Winyah  Bay,  and 
served  as  a  boundary  to  South  Island.  The 
creek  was  very  crooked,  and  the  ebb-tide  strong. 
When  more  than  halfway  to  Santee  River  I  was 
forced  to  leave  the  stream,  as  it  had  become 
closed  by  tidal  deposits  and  rank  vegetation. 

The  ditches  of  rice  plantations  emptied  their 
drainage  of  the  lowlands  into  Mosquito  Creek. 
Following  a  wide  ditch  to  the  right,  through  fields 
of  rich  alluvial  soil,  which  had  been  wrested  by 
severe  toil  from  nature,  the  boat  soon  reached 
the  rice-mill  of  Commodore  Richard  Lowndes. 
A  little  further  on,  and  situated  in  a  noble  grove 
of  live-oaks,  which  were  draped  in  the  weird 
festoons  of  Spanish  moss,  on  the  upland  arose 
the  stately  home  of  the  planter,  who  still  kept  his 
plantation  in  cultivation,  though  on  a  scale  of  less 
magnitude  than  formerly.  It  was,  indeed,  a  pleas- 
ant evening  that  I  passed  in  the  company  of  the 
refined  members  of  the  old  commodore's  house- 
hold, and  with  a  pang  of  regret  the  next  day  I 
paddled  along  the  main  canal  of  the  lowlands, 
casting  backward  glances  at  the  old  house,  with 
its  grand  old  trees.  The  canal  ended  at  North 
Santee  Bay. 

While  I  was  preparing  to  ascend  the  river  a 


244  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

tempest  arose,  which  kept  me  a  weary  prisoner 
among  the  reeds  of  the  rice  marsh.  The  hollow 
reeds  made  poor  fuel  for  cooking,  and  when  the 
dark,  stormy  night  shut  down  upon  me,  the  damp 
soil  grew  damper  as  the  tide  arose,  until  it  threat- 
ened to  overflow  the  land.  For  hours  I  lay  in  my 
narrow  canoe  waiting  for  the  tidal  flood  to  do  its 
worst,  but  it  receded,  and  left  me  without  any 
means  of  building  a  fire,  as  the  reeds  were  wet 
by  the  storm.  The  next  afternoon,  being  tired 
of  this  sort  of  prison-life,  and  cramped  for  lack 
of  exercise,  I  launched  the  canoe  into  the  rough 
water,  and  crossing  to  Crow  Island  found  a  lee 
under  its  shores,  which  permitted  me  to  ascend 
the  river  to  the  mouth  of  Atchison  Creek,  through 
which  I  passed,  two  miles,  to  the  South  Santee 
River. 

All  these  rivers  are  bordered  by  rice  planta- 
tions, many  of  them  having  been  abandoned  to 
the  care  of  the  freedmen.  I  saw  no  white  men 
upon  them.  Buildings  and  dikes  are  falling  into 
ruins,  and  the  river  freshets  frequently  inundate  the 
land.  Many  of  the  owners  of  these  once  valuable 
estates  are  too  much  reduced  in  wealth  to  attempt 
their  proper  cultivation.  It  is  in  any  case  dif- 
ficult to  get  the  freedmen  to  work  through  an 
entire  season,  even  when  well  paid  for  their  ser- 
vices, and  they  flock  to  the  towns  whenever 
opportunity  permits. 

The  North  and  South  Santee  rivers  empty  into 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  245 

the  Atlantic,  but  their  entrances  are  so  shallow 
that  Georgetown  Entrance  is  the  inlet  through 
which  most  of  the  produce  of  the  country  — 
pitch,  tar,  turpentine,  rice,  and  lumber  —  finds 
exit  to  the  sea.  As  I  left  the  canal,  which,  with 
the  creek,  makes  a  complete  thoroughfare  for 
lighters  and  small  coasters  from  one  Santee  River 
to  the  other,  a  renewal  of  the  tempest  made  me 
seek  shelter  in  an  old  cabin  in  a  negro  settlement, 
each  house  of  which  was  built  upon  piles  driven 
into  the  marshes.  The  old  negro  overseer  of  the 
plantation  hinted  to  me  that  his  "  hands  were 
berry  spicious  of  ebbry  stranger,"  and  advised  me 
to  row  to  some  other  locality.  I  told  him  I  was 
from  the  north,  and  would  not  hurt  even  one  of 
the  fleas  which  in  multitudes  infested  his  negroes' 
quarters;  but  the  old  fellow  shook  his  head,  and 
would  not  be  responsible  for  me  if  I  staid  there 
all  night.  A  tall  darkey,  who  had  listened  to  the 
conversation,  broke  in  with,  "  Now,  uncle,  ye 
knows  dat  if  dis  gemmum  is  from  de  norf  he  is 
one  of  wees,  and  ye  must  du  fur  him  jis  dis 
time."  But  "  Uncle  Overseer  "  kept  repeating, 
w  Some  niggers  here  is  mity  spicious.  Du  not 
no  who  white  man  is  anyhow."  "?Well,  uncle," 
replied  the  tall  black,  "  ef  dis  man  is  a  Yankee- 
mans,  Ise  will  see  \\imfroo" 

Then  he  questioned  me,  while  the  fleas,  hav- 
ing telegraphed  to  each  other  that  a  stranger  had 
arrived,  made  sad  havoc  of  me  and  my  patience. 


246  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

"  My  name's  Jacob  Gilleu;  what's  yourn?  "  I 
gave  it.  r?Whar's  your  home?"  came  next.  "I 
am  a  citizen  of  the  United  States,"  I  replied. 
"De  'Nited  States  —  whar's  dat?  neber  hurd 
him  afore,"  said  Jacob  Gilleu.  Having  in- 
formed him  it  was  the  land  which  General  Grant 
governed,  he  exclaimed:  "O,  you's  a  Grant  man; 
all  rite  den;  you  is  one  of  wees  —  all  de  same  as 
wees.  Den  look  a-here,  boss.  I  send  you  to  one 
good  place  on  Alligator  Creek,  whar  Seba  Gil- 
lings  libs.  He  black  man,  but  he  treat  you  jes 
like  white  man." 

Jacob  helped  me  launch  my  boat  through  the 
soft  mud,  which  nearly  stalled  us;  and  following 
his  directions  I  paddled  across  the  South  Santee 
and  coasted  down  to  Alligator  Creek,  where  ex- 
tensive marshes,  covered  by  tall  reeds,  hid  the 
landscape  from  my  view.  About  half  a  mile 
from  the  mouth  of  the  creek,  which  watercourse 
was  on  my  direct  route  to  Bull's  Bay,  a  large 
tide-gate  was  found  at  the  mouth  of  a  canal. 
This"  being  wide  open,  I  pushed  up  the  canal  to 
a  low  point  of  land  which  rose  like  an  island  out 
of  the  rushes.  Here  was  a  negro  hamlet  of  a 
dozen  houses,  or  shanties,  and  the  ruins  of  a 
rice-mill.  The  majority  of  the  negroes  were 
absent  working  within  the  diked  enclosures  of 
this  large  estate,  which  before  the  war  had  pro- 
duced forty  thousand  bushels  of  rice  annually. 
Now  the  place  was  leased  by  a  former  slave, 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  247 

and  but  little  work  was  accomplished  under  the 
present  management. 

Seba  Gillings,  a  powerfully  built  negro,  came 
to  the  dike  upon  which  I  had  landed  the  canoe. 
I  quickly  told  him  my  story,  and  how  I  had  been 
forced  to  leave  the  last  negro  quarters.  I  used 
Jacob  Gilleu's  name  as  authority  for  seeking 
shelter  with  him  from  the  damps  of  the  half- 
submerged  lands.  The  dignified  black  man  bade 
me  "  fear  nuffing,  stay  here  all  de  night,  long's 
you  please;  treat  you  like  white  man.  I'se 
mity  poor,  but  gib  you  de  berry  best  I  hab." 
He  locked  my  boat  in  a  rickety  old  storehouse, 
and  gave  me  to  understand  "  dat  niggers  will 
steal  de  berry  breff  from  a  man's  mouff." 

He  took  me  to  his  home,  and  soon  showed  me 
how  he  managed  "  de  niggers."  His  wife  sat 
silently  by  the  fire.  He  ordered  her  to  "  pound 
de  rice;"  and  she  threw  a  quantity  of  unhulled 
rice  into  a  wooden  mortar  three  feet  high  planted 
in  the  ground  in  front  of  the  shanty.  Then,  with 
an  enormous  pestle,  the  black  woman  pounded 
the  grains  until  the  hulls  were  removed,  when, 
seating  herself  upon  the  floor  of  the  dark,  smoky 
cabin,  she  winnowed  the  rice  with  her  breath, 
while  her  long,  slim  fingers  caught  and  removed 
all  the  specks  of  dirt  from  the  mass.  It  was 
cooked  as  the  Chinese  cook  it  —  not  to  a  glu- 
tinous mass,  as  we  of  the  north  prepare  it — but 
each  grain  was  dry  and  entire.  Then  eggs  and 


248  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

bacon  were  prepared;  not  by  the  woman,  but  by 
the  son,  a  lad  of  fourteen  years. 

All  these  movements  were  superintended  by 
old  Seba,  who  sat  looking  as  dark  and  as  solemn 
and  as  learned  as  an  associate  judge  on  the 
bench  of  a  New  Jersey  county  court.  On  the 
blackest  of  tables,  minus  a  cloth,  the  well-cooked 
food  was  placed  for  the  stranger.  As  soon  as 
my  meal  was  finished,  every  member  of  the  fam- 
ily made  a  dash  for  the  fragments,  and  the  board 
was  cleared  in  a  wonderfully  short  space  of  time. 

Then  we  gathered  round  the  great,  black- 
mouthed  fireplace,  and  while  the  bright  coals  of 
live-oak  spread  a  streak  of  light  through  the 
darkness,  black  men  and  black  women  stole  into 
the  room  until  everything  from  floor  to  ceiling, 
from  door  to  chimney-place,  seemed  to  be  grow- 
ing blacker  and  blacker,  and  I  felt  as  black  as 
my  surroundings.  The  scant  clothing  of  the 
men  only  half  covered  their  shiny,  ebony  skins. 
The  whole  company  preserved  a  dignified  si- 
lence, which  was  occasionally  broken  by  deep 
sighs  coming  from  the  women  in  reply  to  a  half- 
whispered  "  All  de  way  from  de  norf  in  a  paper 
canno  —  bless  de  Lord!  bless  de  Lord!  " 

This  dull  monotony  was  broken  by  the  en- 
trance of  a  young  negro  who,  having  made  a 
passage  in  a  sloop  to  Charleston  through  Bull's 
Bay,  was  looked  upon  as  a  great  traveller,  and 
to  him  were  referred  disputes  upon  nautical  mat- 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  249 

ters.  He  had  not  yet  seen  the  boat,  but  he  pro- 
ceeded to  tell  the  negroes  present  all  about  it. 
He  first  bowed  to  me  with  a  "  How'dy,  how'dy, 
cap'n,"  and  then  struck  an  attitude  in  the  middle 
of  the  floor.  Upon  this  natural  orator  Seba  Gil- 
lings'  dignity  had  no  effect  —  was  he  not  a  trav- 
elled man? 

His  exordium  was:  "  How  fur  you  cum,  sar?  " 
I  replied,  about  fourteen  hundred  miles.  "Four- 
teen hundred  miles!"  he  roared;  "  duz  you 
knows  how  much  dat  is,  honnies?  it's  jes  one 
tousand  four  hundred  miles."  All  the  women 
groaned  out,  "Bless  de  Lord!  bless  de  Lord!" 
and  clapped  their  shrivelled  hands  in  ecstasy. 

The  little  black  tried  to  run  his  fingers  through 
his  short,  woolly  hair  as  he  continued:  "What  is 
dis  yere  world  a-coming  to?  Now,  yous  ere 
folks,  did  ye's  eber  hear  de  likes  o'  dis  —  a 
paper  boat?"  To  which  the  crones  replied, 
clapping  their  hands,  "Bless  de  Lord!  bless  de 
Lord!  Only  the  Yankee-mens  up  norf  can 
make  de  paper  boats.  Bless  de  Lord!" 

"  And  what,"  continued  the  orator,  "  and  what 
will  the  Yankee-mens  do  next?  Dey  duz  ebery 
ting.  Can  dey  bring  a  man  back  agen?  Can 
dey  bring  a  man  back  to  bref?"  "No!  no!" 
howled  the  women;  "only  de  Lord  can  bring  a 
man  back  agen  —  no  Yankee-mens  can  do  dat. 
Bless  de  Lord!  bless  de  Lord !  "  "And  what  sent 
dis  Yankee-man  one  tousand  four  hundred  miles 


250  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

in  his  paper  boat?"  "De  Lord!  de  Lord! 
bless  de  Lord!  "  shouted  the  now  highly  excited 
women,  violently  striking  the  palms  of  their 
hands  together. 

"  And  why,"  went  on  this  categorical  negro, 
"  did  de  Lord  send  him  down  souf  in  de  paper 
boat?"  "Kase  he  couldn't  hab  cum  in  de  paper 
boat  ef  de  Lord  hadn't  a-sent  him.  O,  bless  de 
Lord!  bless  de  Lord!  "  "And  what  duz  he  call 
his  paper  boat?"  "Maria  Theresa,"  I  replied. 
"  Maria  Truss  Her,"  cried  the  orator.  "  He  calls 
her  Maria  Truss  Her.  Berry  good,  berry  good 
name;  kase  he  truss  his  life  in  her  ebry  day,  and 
clat's  why  he  calls  his  little  boat  Truss  Her. 
Yes,  de  Yankee-mans  makes  de  gunboats  and 
de  paper  boats.  Has  de  gemmin  from  de  norf 
any  bacca  for  dis  yere  chile?" 

As  the  women  had  become  very  piously  in- 
clined, and  were  in  just  the  state  of  nervous 
excitement  to  commence  "  de  shoutings,"  old 
Uncle  Seba  rudely  informed  them  that  "  de  Yan- 
kee-mans wants  sleep,"  and  cleared  the  room  of 
the  crowd,  to  my  great  relief,  for  the  state  of  the 
atmosphere  was  beyond  description.  Seba  had 
a  closet  where  he  kept  onions,  muskrat  skins, 
and  other  pieces  of  personal  property.  He  now 
set  his  wife  to  sweeping  it  out,  and  I  spread  my 
clean  blankets  with  a  sigh  upon  the  black  floor, 
knowing  I  should  carry  away  in  the  morning  more 
than  I  had  brought  into  Seba's  dwelling. 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.      251 

I  will  not  now  expatiate  upon  the  small  annoy- 
ances of  travel;  but  to  the  canoeist  who  may 
follow  the  southern  watercourses  traversed  by 
the  paper  canoe,  I  would  quietly  say,  "Keep 
away  from  cabins  of  all  kinds,  and  you  will  by 
so  doing  travel  with  a  light  heart  and  even 
temper." 

When  I  cast  up  my  account  with  old  Seba 
the  next  morning,  he  said  that  by  trading  the 
rice  he  raised  he  could  obtain  "bout  ebbry  ting 
he  wanted,  'cept  rum."  Rum  was  his  medicine. 
So  long  as  he  kept  a  little  stowed  away,  he 
admitted  he  was  often  sick.  Having  been  desti- 
tute of  cash,  and  consequently  of  rum  for  some 
time,  he  acknowledged  his  state  of  health  re- 
markable; and  he  was  a  model  of  strength  and 
manly  development.  All  the  other  negroes  were 
dwarfish-looking  specimens,  while  their  hair  was 
so  very  short  that  it  gave  them  the  appearance 
of  being  bald. 

When  the  canoe  was  taken  out  of  the  store- 
house to  be  put  into  the  canal,  these  half-naked, 
ebony-skinned  creatures  swarmed  about  it  like 
bees.  Not  a  trace  of  white  blood  could  be  de- 
tected in  them.  Each  tried  to  put  a  finger  upon 
the  boat.  They  seemed  to  regard  it  as  a  Fetich ; 
and,  I  believe,  had  it  been  placed  upon  an  end 
they  would  have  bowed  down  and  paid  their 
African  devotions  to  it.  Only  the  oldest  ones 
could  speak  English  well  enough  to  be  under- 


252  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

stood.  The  youths  chattered  in  African  tongue, 
and  wore  talismans  about  their  necks.  They 
were,  to  say  the  least,  verging  on  barbarism. 
The  experience  gathered  among  the  blacks  of 
other  lands  impressed  me  with  the  well-founded 
belief,  that  in  more  than  one  place  in  the  south 
would  the  African  Fetich  be  set  up  and  wor- 
shipped before  long,  unless  the  church  bestirs 
herself  to  look  well  to  her  home  missions. 

In  all  my  travels,  outside  of  the  cities,  in  the 
south  it  has  not  been  my  good  fortune  to  find  an 
educated  white  man  preaching  to  negroes, 'yet 
everywhere  the  poor  blacks  gather  in  the  log- 
cabin,  or  rudely  constructed  church,  to  listen  to 
ignorant  preachers  of  their  own  color.  The 
blind  leading  the  blind. 

A  few  men  of  negro  extraction,  with  white 
blood  in  their  veins,  not  any  more  negro  than 
white  man,  consequently  not  negroes  in  the  true 
sense  of  the  word,  are  sent  from  the  negro 
colleges  of  the  south  to  lecture  northern  congre- 
gations upon  the  needs  of  //z<?z>race;  and  these 
one-quarter,  or  perhaps  three-quarters,  white 
men  are,  with  their  intelligence,  and  sometimes 
brilliant  oratory,  held  up  as  true  types  of  the 
negro  race  by  northerners;  while  there  is,  in 
fact,  as  much  difference  between  the  pure- 
blooded  negro  of  the  rice-field  and  this  false 
representative  of  "  his  needs,"  as  can  well  be 
imagined. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  253 

An  Irishman,  just  from  the  old  country,  lis- 
tened one  evening  to  the  fascinating  eloquence 
of  a  mulatto  freedman.  The  good  Irishman  had 
never  seen  a  pure-blooded  black  man.  The  ora- 
tor said,  "  I  am  only  half  a  black  man.  My 
mother  was  a  slave,  my  father  a  white  planter." 
"Be  jabbers,"  shouted  the  excited  Irishman, 
who  was  charmed  with  the  lecturer,  "  if  you  are 
only  half  a  nigger,  what  must  a  'whole  one  be 
like!" 

The  blacks  were  kind  and  civil,  as  they  usually 
are  when  fairly  treated.  They  stood  upon  the 
dike  and  shouted  unintelligible  farewells  as  I 
descended  the  canal  to  Alligator  Creek.  This 
thoroughfare  soon  carried  me  on  its  salt-water 
current  to  the  sea;  for  I  missed  a  narrow  en- 
trance to  the  marshes,  called  the  Eye  of  the 
Needle  (a  steamboat  thoroughfare),  and  found 
myself  upon  the  calm  sea,  which  pulsated  in 
long  swells.  To  the  south  was  the  low  island 
of  Cape  Roman,  which,  like  a  protecting  arm, 
guarded  the  quiet  bay  behind  it.  The  marshes 
extended  from  the  main  almost  to  the  cape, 
while  upon  the  edge  of  the  rushy  meadows,  upon 
an  island  just  inside  of  the  cape,  rose  the  tower 
of  Roman  Light. 

This  was  the  first  time  my  tiny  shell  had 
floated  upon  the  ocean.  I  coasted  the  sandy 
beach  of  the  muddy  lowlands,  towards  the  light- 
house, until  I  found  a  creek  debouching  from 


254     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

the  marsh,  which  I  entered,  and  from  one  water- 
course to  another,  without  a  chart,  found  my 
way  at  dusk  into  Bull's  Bay.  The  sea  was  roll- 
ing in  and  breaking  upon  the  shore,  which  I  was 
forced  to  hug  closely,  as  the  old  disturbers  of  my 
peace,  the  porpoises,  were  visible,  fishing  in 
numbers.  To  escape  the  dangerous  raccoon 
oyster  reefs  of  the  shoal  water  the  canoe  was 
forced  into  a  deeper  channel,  when  the  lively 
porpoises  chased  the  boat  and  drove  me  back 
again  on  to  the  sharp-lipped  shells.  It  was  fast 
growing  dark,  and  no  place  of  refuge  nearer 
than  the  upland,  a  long  distance  across  the  soft 
marsh,  which  was  even  now  wet  with  the  sea. 

The  rough  water  of  the  sound,  the  oyster  reefs 
which  threatened  to  pierce  my  boat,  and  a  coast 
which  would  be  submerged  by  the  next  flood- 
tide,  all  seemed  to  conspire  against  me.  Sud- 
denly my  anxiety  was  relieved,  and  gratitude 
rilled  my  heart,  as  the  tall  masts  of  a  schooner 
rose  out  of  the  marshes  not  far  from  the  upland, 
telling  me  that  a  friendly  creek  was  near  at  hand. 
Its  wide  mouth  soon  opened  invitingly  before 
me,  and  I  rowed  towards  the  beautiful  craft 
anchored  in  its  current,  the  trim  rig  of  which 
plainly  said  —  the  property  of  the  United  States. 
An  officer  stood  on  the  quarterdeck  watching 
my  approach  through  his  glass;  and,  as  I  was 
passing  the  vessel,  a  sailor  remarked  to  his 
mates,  "  That  is  the  paper  canoe.  I  was  in  Nor- 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.     255 

folk,  last  December,  when  it  reached  the  Eliza- 
beth River." 

The  officer  kindly  hailed  me,  and  offered  me 
the  hospitality  of  the  Coast-Survey  schooner 
"  Caswell."  In  the  cosrest  of  cabins,  Mr.  W.  H. 
Dennis,  with  his  co-laborers  Messrs.  Ogden  and 
Bond,  with  their  interesting  conversation  soon 
made  me  forget  the  discomforts  of  the  last  three 
days  spent  in  the  muddy  flats  among  the  lowland 
negroes.  From  poor,  kind  Seba  Gillings'  black 
cabin-floor,  to  the  neat  state-room,  with  its  snowy 
sheets  and  clean  towels,  where  fresh,  pure  water 
could  be  used  without  stint,  was  indeed  a  transi- 
tion. The  party  expected  to  complete  their 
work  as  far  as  Charleston  harbor  before  the 
season  closed. 

The  Sunday  spent  on  the  "  Caswell "  greatly 
refreshed  me.  On  Saturday  evening  Mr.  Dennis 
traced  upon  a  sheet  of  paper  my  route  through 
the  interior  coast  watercourses  to  Charleston 
harbor;  and  I  left  the  pretty  schooner  on  Mon- 
day, fully  posted  for  my  voyage.  The  tide  com- 
menced flooding  at  eleven  A.  M.,  and  the  flats 
soon  afforded  me  water  for  their  passage  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  shore.  Heavy  forests  covered 
the  uplands,  where  a  few  houses  were  visible. 
Bull's  Island,  with  pines  and  a  few  cabbage  palms, 
was  on  my  left  as  I  reached  the  entrance  of  the 
southern  thoroughfare  at  the  end  of  the  bay. 
Here,  in  the  intricacies  of  creeks  and  passages 


256     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

through  the  islands,  and  made  careless  by  the 
possession  of  Mr.  Dennis'  chart,  I  several  times 
blundered  into  the  wrong  course;  and  got  no 
further  that  afternoon  than  Price's  Inlet,  though 
I  rowed  more  than  twenty  miles.  Some  eight 
miles  of  the  distance  rowed  was  lost  by  ascend- 
ing and  descending  creeks  by  mistake. 

After  a  weary  day's  work  shelter  was  found 
in  a  house  close  by  the  sea,  on  the  shores  of 
Price's  Inlet;  where,  in  company  with  a  young 
fisherman,  who  was  in  the  employ  of  Mr.  Mag- 
wood,  of  Charleston,  I  slept  upon  the  floor  in  my 
blankets.  Charles  Hucks,  the  fisherman,  asserted 
that  three  albino  deer  were  killed  on  Caper's 
Island  the  previous  winter.  Two  were  shot  by 
a  negro,  while  he  killed  the  third.  Messrs. 
Magwood,  Terry,  and  Noland,  of  Charleston,  one 
summer  penned  beside  the  water  one  thousand 
old  terrapin,  to  hold  them  over  for  the  winter 
season.  These  "  diamond-backs "  would  con- 
sume five  bushels  of  shrimps  in  one  hour  when 
fed.  A  tide  of  unusual  height  washed  out  the 
terrapins  from  their  "  crawl,"  and  with  them  dis- 
appeared all  anticipated  results  of  the  experiment. 

The  next  day,  Caper's  Island  and  Inlet,  De- 
wees'  Inlet,  Long  Island,  and  Breach  Inlet  were 
successively  passed,  on  strong  tidal  currents. 
Sullivan's  Island  is  separated  from  Long  Island 
by  Breach  Inlet.  While  following  the  creeks  in 
the  marshes  back  of  Sullivan's  Island,  the  com- 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.     257 

pact  mass  of  buildings  of  Moultrieville,  at  its 
western  end,  at  the  entrance  of  Charleston  har- 
bor, rose  imposingly  to  view. 

The  gloomy  mantle  of  darkness  was  settling 
over  the  harbor  as  the  paper  canoe  stole  quietly 
into  its  historic  waters.  Before  me  lay  the  quiet 
bay,  with  old  Fort  Sumter  rising  from  the  watery 
plain  like  a  spectral  giant,  as  though  to  remind 
one  that  this  had  been  the  scene  of  mighty 
struggles.  The  tranquil  waters  softly  rippled  a 
response  to  the  touch  of  my  oars;  all  was  peace 
and  quiet  here,  where,  only  a  few  short  years 
before,  the  thunder  of  cannon  woke  a  thousand 
echoes,  and  the  waves  were  stained  with  the  life- 
blood  of  America,  —  where  war,  with  her  iron 
throat,  poured  out  destruction,  and  God's  crea- 
tures, men,  made  after  his  own  image,  de- 
stroyed each  other  ruthlessly,  having  never,  in  all 
that  civilization  had  done  for  them,  discovered 
any  other  way  of  settling  their  difficulties  than 
by  this  wholesale  murder. 

The  actors  in  this  scene  were  scattered  now; 
they  had  returned  to  the  farm,  the  workshop, 
the  desk,  and  the  pulpit.  The '  old  flag  again 
floated  upon  the  ramparts  of  Sumter,  and  a  gov- 
ernment was  trying  to  reconstruct  itself,  so  that 
the  Great  Republic  should  become  more  thor- 
oughly a  government  of  the  people,  founded 
upon  equal  rights  to  all  men. 

A  sharp,  scraping  sound  under  my  boat  roused 
17 


258     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

me  from  my  revery,  for  I  had  leaned  upon  my 
oars  while  the  tide  had  carried  me  slowly  but 
surely  upon  the  oyster-reefs,  from  which  I  es- 
caped with  some  slight  damage  to  my  paper 
shell.  Newspaper  reading  had  impressed  upon 
me  a  belief  that  the  citizens  of  the  city  which 
played  so  important  a  part  in  the  late  civil  war 
might  not  treat  kindly  a  Massachusetts  man.  I 
therefore  decided  to  go  up  to  the  city  upon  the 
ferry-boat  for  the  large  mail  which  awaited  my 
arrival  at  the  Charleston  post-office,  after  re- 
ceiving which  I  intended  to  return  to  Mount 
Pleasant,  and  cross  the  bay  to  the  entrance  of 
the  southern  watercourses,  leaving  the  city  as 
quietly  as  I  entered  it. 

My  curiosity  was,  however,  aroused  to  see 
how,  under  the  new  reconstruction  rule,  things 
were  conducted  in  the  once  proud  city  of 
Charleston.  As  I  stood  at  the  window  of  the 
post-office  delivery,  and  inquired  through  the 
narrow  window  for  my  letters,  a  heavy  shadow 
seemed  to  fall  upon  me  as  the  head  of  a  negro 
appeared.  The  black  post-office  official's  feat- 
ures underwent  a  sudden  change  as  I  pro- 
nounced my  name,  and,  while  a  warm  glow  of 
affection  lighted  up  his  dark  face,  he  thrust  his 
whole  arm  through  the  window,  and  grasped  my 
hand  with  a  vigorous  shake  in  the  most  friendly 
manner,  as  though  upon  his  shoulders  rested  the 
good  name  of  the  people. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  259 


DECEPTION     AT     pHARLESI  ON     PoST-pFFI~E 


rf  Welcome  to  Charleston,  Mr.  B ,  'welcome 

to  our  beautiful  city,"  he  exclaimed.  So  this 
was  Charleston  under  reconstruction. 

After  handing  me  my  mail,  the  postmaster 
graciously  remarked,  "  Our  rule  is  to  close  the 
office  at  five  o'clock  p.  M.,  but  if  you  are  belated 
any  day,  tap  at  the  door,  and  I  will  attend  you." 


260  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

This  was  my  first  welcome  to  Charleston ;  but 
before  I  could  return  to  my  quarters  at  Mount 
Pleasant,  members  of  the  Chamber  of  Com- 
merce, the  Carolina  Club,  and  others,  pressed 
upon  me  kind  attentions  and  hospitalities,  while 
Mr.  James  L.  Frazer,  of  the  South  Carolina  Re- 
gatta Association,  sent  for  the  Maria  Theresa, 
and  placed  it  in  charge  of  the  wharfinger. of  the 
Southern  Wharf,  where  many  ladies  and  gentle- 
men visited  it. 

When  I  left  the  old  city,  a  few  days  later,  I 
blushed  to  think  how  I  had  doubted  these  people, 
whose  reputation  for  hospitality  to  strangers  had 
been  world-wide  for  more  than  half  a  century. 

While  here  I  was  the  guest  of  Rev.  G.  R. 
Brackett,  the  well-loved  pastor  of  one  of 
Charleston's  churches.  It  was  with  feelings  of 
regret  I  turned  my  tiny  craft  towards  untried 
waters,  leaving  behind  me  the  beautiful  city  of 
Charleston,  and  the  friends  who  had  so  kindly 
cared  for  the  lonely  canoeist. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  26 I 


CHAPTER    XII. 

FROM   CHARLESTON   TO   SAVANNAH,   GEORGIA. 

THE  INTERIOR  WATER  ROUTE  TO  JEHOSSEE  ISLAND.  —  GOVERNOR  • 
AIKEN'S   MODEL  RICE  PLANTATION.  —  LOST  IN  THE  HORNS.  — 
ST.  HELENA  SOUND.  —  LOST   IN   THE   NIGHT. —  THE  PHANTOM 
SHIP.  —  A   FINLANDER'S   WELCOME.  —  A   NIGHT    ON   THE   EM- 
PEROR'S    OLD     YACHT.  —  THE     PHOSPHATE     MINES.  —  COOSAW 

AND  BROAD  RIVERS.  —  PORT  ROYAL  SOUND  AND  CALIBOQUE 
SOUND. —  CUFFY'S  HOME. —  ARRIVAL  IN  GEORGIA. —  RECEP- 
TIONS AT  GREENWICH  SHOOTING-PARK. 

CAPTAIN  N.  L.  COSTE,  and  several  other 
Charleston  pilots,  drew  and  presented  to 
me  charts  of  the  route  to  be  followed  by  the 
paper  canoe  through  the  Sea  Island  passages, 
from  the  Ashley  to  the  Savannah  River,  as  some 
of  the  smaller  watercourses  near  the  upland  were 
not,  in  1875,  upon  any  engraved  chart  of  the 
Coast  Survey. 

Ex-Governor  William  Aiken,  whose  rice  plan- 
tation on  Jehossee  Island  was  considered,  before 
the  late  war,  the  model  one  of  the  south,  invited 
me  to  pass  the  following  Sunday  with  him  upon 
his  estate,  which  was  about  sixty-five  miles  from 
Charleston,  and  along  one  of  the  interior  water 
routes  to  Savannah.  He  proposed  to  leave  his 
city  residence  and  travel  by  land,  while  I  paddled 


262  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

my  canoe  southward  to  meet  him.  The  genial 
editor  of  the  "News  and  Courier"  promised  to 
notify  the  people  of  my  departure,  and  have  the 
citizens  assembled  to  give  me  a  South  Carolina 
adieu.  To  avoid  this  publicity,  —  so  kindly 
meant,  —  I  quietly  left  the  city  from  the  south 
side  on  Friday,  February  i2th,  and  ascended  the 
Ashley  to  Wappoo  Creek,  on  the  opposite  bank 
of  the  river. 

A  steamboat  sent  me  a  screaming  salute  as  the 
mouth  of  the  Wappoo  was  reached,  which  made 
me  feel  that,  though  in  strange  waters,  friends 
were  all  around  me.  I  was  now  following  one 
of  the  salt-water,  steamboat  passages  through 
the  great  marshes  of  South  Carolina.  From 
Wappoo  Creek  I  took  the  "  Elliot  Cut "  into  the 
broad  Stono  River,  from  behind  the  marshes  of 
which  forests  rose  upon  the  low  bluffs  of  the 
upland,  and  rowed  steadily  on  to  Church  Flats, 
where  Wide  Awake,  with  its  landing  and  store, 
nestled  on  the  bank. 

A  little  further  on  the  tides  divided,  one  ebb- 
ing through  the  Stono  to  the  sea,  the  other  to- 
wards the  North  Edisto.  "  New  Cut "  connects 
Church  Flats  with  Wadmelaw  Sound,  a  sheet 
of  water  not  over  two  miles  in  width  and  the 
same  distance  in  length.  From  the  sound  the 
Wadmelaw  River  runs  to  the  mouth  of  the  Da- 
hoo.  Vessels  drawing  eight  and  a  half  feet  of 
water  can  pass  on  full  tides  from  Charleston  over 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  263 

the  course  I  was  following  to  the  North  Edisto 
River. 

Leaving  Wadmelaw  Sound,  a  deep  bend  of 
the  river  was  entered,  when  the  bluffs  of  En- 
terprise Landing,  with  its  store  and  the  ruins  of 
a  burnt  saw-mill,  came  into  view  on  the  left. 
Having  rowed  more  than  thirty  miles  from  the 
Ashley,  and  finding  that  the  proprietor  of  En- 
terprise, a  Connecticut  gentleman,  had  made 
preparations  to  entertain  me,  this  day  of  pleasant 
journeying  ended. 

The  Cardinal-bird  was  carolling  his  matin 
song  when  the  members  of  this  little  New 
England  colony  watched  my  departure  down  the 
Wadmelaw  the  next  morning.  The  course  was 
for  the  most  part  over  the  submerged  phosphate 
beds  of  South  Carolina,  where  the  remains  of 
extinct  species  were  now  excavated,  furnishing 
food  for  the  worn-out  soils  of  America  and  Eu- 
rope, and  interesting  studies  and  speculations  for 
men  of  science.  The  Dahoo  River  was  reached 
soon  after  leaving  Enterprise.  Here  the  North 
Edisto,  a  broad  river,  passes  the  mouth  of  the 
Dahoo,  in  its  descent  to  the  sea,  which  is  about 
ten  miles  distant. 

For  two  miles  along  the  Dahoo  the  porpoises 
gave  me  strong  proof  of  their  knowledge  of  the 
presence  of  the  paper  canoe  by  their  rough 
gambols,  but  being  now  in  quiet  inland  waters, 
I  could  laugh  at  these  strange  creatures  as  they 


264  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

broke  from  the  water  around  the  boat.  At  four 
o'clock  P.  M.  the  extensive  marshes  of  Jehossee 
Island  were  reached,  and  I  approached  the  vil- 
lage of  the  plantation  through  a  short  canal. 

Out  of  the  rice-fields  of  rich,  black  alluvium 
rose  an  area  of  higher  land,  upon  which  were 
situated  the  mansion  and  village  of  Governor 
Aiken,  where  he,  in  1830.  commenced  his  duties 
as  rice-planter.  A  hedge  of  bright  green  casino 
surrounded  the  well-kept  garden,  within  which 
magnolias  and  live-oaks  enveloped  the  solid  old 
house,  screening  it  with  their  heavy  foliage  from 
the  strong  winds  of  the  ocean,  while  flowering 
shrubs  of  all  descriptions  added  their  bright  and 
vivid  coloring  to  the  picturesque  beauty  of  the 
scene. 

The  governor  had  arrived  at  Jehossee  before 
me,  and  Saturday  being  pay-day,  the  faces  of  the 
negroes  were  wreathed  in  smiles.  Here,  in  his 
quiet  island  home,  I  remained  until  Monday  with 
this  most  excellent  man  and  patriot,  whose  soul 
had  been  tried  as  by  fire  during  the  disturbances 
caused  by  the  war. 

As  we  sat  together  in  that  room  where,  in 
years  gone  by,  Governor  Aiken  had  entertained 
his  northern  guests,  with  Englishmen  of  noble 
blood,  —  a  room  full  of  reminiscences  both 
pleasant  and  painful,  —  my  kind  host  freely  told 
me  the  story  of  his  busy  life,  which  sounded  like 
a  tale  of  romance.  He  had  tried  to  stay  the  wild 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  265 

storm  of  secession  when  the  war-cloud  hung 
gloomily  over  his  state.  It  broke,  and  his  un- 
heeded warnings  were  drowned  in  the  thunders 
of  the  political  tempest  that  swept  over  the  fair 
south.  Before  the  war  he  owned  one  thousand 
slaves.  He  organized  schools  to  teach  his  ne- 
groes to  read  and  write.  The  improvement  of 
their  moral  condition  was  his  great  study. 

The  life  he  had  entered  upon,  though  at  first 
distasteful,  had  been  forced  upon  him,  and  he 
met  his  peculiar  responsibilities  with  a  true 
Christian  desire  to  benefit  all  within  his  reach. 
When  a  young  man,  having  returned  from  the 
tour  of  Europe,  his  father  presented  him  with 
Jehossee  Island,  an  estate  of  five  thousand  acres, 
around  which  it  required  four  stout  negro  oars- 
men to  row  him  in  a  day.  "  Here,"  said  the 
father  to  the  future  governor  of  South  Carolina, 
as  he  presented  the  domain  to  his  son,  —  "here 
are  the  means;  now  go  to  work  and  develop 
them." 

William  Aiken  applied  himself  industriously 
to  the  task  of  improving  the  talents  given  him. 
His  well-directed  efforts  bore  good  fruit,  as  year 
after  year  Jehossee  Island,  from  a  half  sub- 
merged, sedgy,  boggy  waste,  grew  into  one  of 
the  finest  rice-plantations  in  the  south.  The 
new  lord  of  the  manor  ditched  the  marshes,  and 
walled  in  his  new  rice-fields  with  dikes,  to  keep 
out  the  freshets  from  the  upland  and  the  tides 


266  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

from  the  ocean,  perfecting  a  complete  system  of 
drainage  and  irrigation.  .  He  built  comfortable 
quarters  for  his  slaves,  and  erected  a  church  and 
schoolhouse  for  their  use.  From  the  original 
two  hundred  and  eighty  acres  of  cultivated  rice 
land,  the  new  proprietor  developed  the  wild 
morass  into  sixteen  hundred  acres  of  rice-fields, 
arid  six  hundred  acres  of  vegetable,  corn,  and 
provender  producing  land. 

For  several  seasons  prior  to  the  war,  Jehossee 
yielded  a  rice  crop  which  sold  for  seventy  thou- 
sand dollars,  and  netted  annually  fifty  thousand 
dollars  income  to  the  owner.  At  that  time  Gov- 
ernor Aiken  had  eight  hundred  and  seventy- 
three  slaves  on  the  island,  and  about  one  hundred 
working  as  mechanics,  &c.,  in  Charleston.  The 
eight  hundred  and  seventy-three  Jehossee  slaves, 
men,  women,  and  children,  furnished  a  working 
force  of  three  hundred  for  the  rice-fields. 

Mr.  Aiken  would  not  tolerate  the  loose  matri- 
monial ways  of  negro  life,  but  compelled  his 
slaves  to  accept  the  marriage  ceremony;  and 
herein  lay  one  of  his  chief  difficulties,  for,  to 
whatever  cause  we  attribute  it,  the  fact  remains 
the  same,  namely,  that  the  ordinary  negro  has 
no  sense  of  morality.  After  all  the  attempts 
made  on  this  plantation  to  improve  the  moral 
nature  of  these  men  and  women,  Governor  Aiken, 
during  a  yellow-fever  season  in  Savannah  after 
the  war,  while  visiting  the  poor  sufferers,  intent 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  267 

upon  charitable  works,  found  in  the  lowest  quar- 
ter of  the  city,  sunk  in  the  most  abject  depths  of 
vice,  men  and  women  who  had  once  been  good 
servants  on  his  plantations. 

In  old  times  Jehossee  was  a  happy  place  for 
master  and  for  slave.  The  governor  rarely 
locked  the  door  of  his  mansion.  The  family 
plate,  valued  at  fifteen  thousand  dollars,  was 
stored  in  a  chest  in  a  room  on  the  ground-floor 
of  the  house,  which  had  for  its  occupants,  during 
four  months  of  the  year,  two  or  three  negro  ser- 
vants. Though  all  the  negroes  at  the  quarters, 
which  were  only  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  the 
mansion,  knew  the  valuable  contents  of  the 
chest,  it  was  never  disturbed.  They  stole  small 
things,  but  seemed  incapable  of  committing  a 
burglary. 

When  the  Union  army  marched  through  an- 
other part  of  South  Carolina,  where  Governor 
Aiken  had  buried  these  old  family  heirlooms  and 
had  added  to  the  original  plate  thirty  thousand 
dollars'  worth  of  his  own  purchasing,  the  soldiers 
dug  up  this  treasure-trove,  and  forty-five  thou- 
sand dollars'  worth  of  fine  silver  went  to  enrich 
the  spoils  of  the  Union  army.  Soon  after,  three- 
thousand  eight  hundred  bottles  of  fine  old  wines, 
worth  from  eight  to  nine  dollars  a  bottle,  were 
dug  up  and  destroyed  by  a  Confederate  officer's 
order,  to  prevent  the  Union  army  from  capturing 
them.  Thus  was^plundered  an  old  and  revered 


268  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

governor  of  South  Carolina  —  one  who  was  a 
kind  neighbor,  a  true  patriot,  and  a  Christian 
gentleman. 

The  persecutions  of  the  owner  of  Jehossee 
did  not,  however,  terminate  with  the  war;  for 
when  the  struggle  was  virtually  ended,  and  the 
fair  mansion  of  the  rice-plantation  retained  its 
heirlooms  and  its  furniture,  Beaufort,  of  South 
Carolina,  was  still  under  the  influence  of  the 
Freedman's  Bureau;  and  when  it  was  whispered 
that  Aiken's  house  was  full  of  nice  old  furniture, 
and  that  a  few  faithful  servants  of  the  good  old 
master  were  its  only  guards,  covetous  thoughts 
at  once  stirred  the  evil  minds  of  those  who  were 
the  representatives  of  law  and  order.  This  house 
was  left  almost  without  protection.  The  war  was 
over.  South  Carolina  had  bent  her  proud  head 
in  agony  over  her  burned  plantations  and  deso- 
late homes.  The  victorious  army  was  now  pro- 
claiming peace,  and  generous  treatment  to  a 
fallen  foe.  Then  to  what  an  almost  unimagin- 
able state  of  demoralization  must  some  of  the 
freedmen's  protectors  have  fallen,  when  they 
sent  a  gunboat  to  Jehossee  Island,  and  rifled  the 
old  house  of  all  its  treasures! 

To-day,  the  governor's  favorite  sideboard 
stands  in  the  house  of  a  citizen  of  Boston,  as 
a  relic  of  the  war.  O,  people  of  the  north, 
hold  no  longer  to  your  relics  of  the  war,  stolen 
from  the  firesides  of  the  south!  Restore  them 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  269 

to  their  owners,  or  else  bury  them  out  of  the 
sight  of  your  children,  that  they  may  not  be  led 
to  believe  that  the  war  for  the  preservation  of 
the  Great  Republic  was  a  war  for  -plunder;  — 
else  did  brave  men  right,  and  good  women  pray  in 
vain.  Away  with  stolen  pianos,  "  captured " 
sideboards,  and  purloined  silver!  What  but 
this  petty  plundering  could  be  expected  of  men 
who  robbed  by  wholesale  the  poor  negro,  to 
protect  whose  rights  they  were  sent  south? 

The  great  political  party  of  the  north  became 
the  pledged  conservator  of  the  black  man's 
rights,  and  established  a  Freedman's  Bureau, 
and  Freedman's  banks  to  guard  his  humble 
earnings.  All  know  something  of  the  workings 
of  those  banks;  and  to  everlasting  infamy  must 
be  consigned  the  names  of  many  of  those  con- 
ducting them,  —  men  who  robbed  every  one 
of  these  depositories  of  negro  savings,  and  left 
the  poor,  child-like  freedman  in  a  physical  state 
of  destitution,  and  in  a  perfect  bewilderment  of 
mind  as  to  who  his  true  friend  really  was. 

A  faithful  negro  of  Jehossee  Island  was  but 
one  among  thousands  of  such  cases.  While  the 
tumult  of  war  vexed  the  land,  the  faithful  negro 
overseer  remained  at  his  post  to  guard  his  late 
master's  property,  supporting  himself  by  the 
manufacture  of  salt,  and  living  in  the  most  fru- 
gal manner  to  be  able  to  "  lay  by  "  a  sum  for  his 
old  age.  Having  saved  five  hundred  dollars,  he 


270  VOYAGE    OF    TIU:    I'AI'EK    CANOE. 

deposited  them  in  the  nearest  Freedman's  bank, 
which,  though  fathered  by  the  United  States 
government,  failed;  and  the  now  destitute  negro 
found  himself  stripped  in  the  same  moment  of 
his  hard-earned  savings,  and  his  confidence  in 
his  new  protectors. 

As  the  war  of  the  rebellion  was  slowly  draw- 
ing to  its  close,  Mr.  Lincoln's  kind  heart  was 
drawn  towards  his  erring  countrymen,  and  he 
made  a  list  of  the  names  of  the  wisest  and  best 
men  of  the  south,  who,  not  having  taken  an  act- 
ive part  in  the  strife,  might  be  intrusted  with 
the  task  of  bringing  back  the  unruly  states  to 
their  constitutional  relations  with  the  national 
government.  Governor  Aiken  was  informed 
that  his  name  was  upon  that  list;  and  he  would 
gladly  have  accepted  the  onerous  position,  and 
labored  in  the  true  interests  of  the  whole  people, 
but  the  pistol  of  an  assassin  closed  the  life  of 
the  President,  whose  generous  plans  of  recon- 
struction were  never  realized. 

In  the  birth  of  our  new  Centennial  let  us 
eschew  the  political  charlatan,  and  bring  for- 
ward our  statesmen  to  serve  and  govern  a  peo- 
ple, who,  to  become  a  unit  of  strength,  must 
ever  bear  in  mind  the  words  of  the  great  south- 
ern statesman,  who  said  he  knew  "no  north,  no 
south,  no  east,  no  west;  but  one  undivided 
country." 

On  Monday,  at  ten  A.  M.,  two  negroes  assisted 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  271 

me  to  launch  my  craft  from  the  river's  bank  at 
the  mouth  of  the  canal,  for  the  tide  was  very 
low.  As  I  settled  myself  for  a  long  pull  at  the 
oars,  the  face  of  one  of  the  blacks  was  seemingly 
rent  in  twain,  as  a  huge  mouth  opened,  and  a 
pair  of  strong  lungs  sent  forth  these  parting 
words :  ^  Bully  for  Massachusetts  !  " 

"  How  did  you  know  I  came  from  Massachu- 
setts?" I  called  out  from  the  river. 

"  I  knows  de  cuts  ob  dem.  I  suffered  at  Fort 
Wagner.  Dis  chile  knows  Massachusetts." 

Two  miles  further  on,  Bull  Creek  served  me 
as  a  "  cut-off,"  and  half  an  hour  after  entering  it 
the  tide  was  flooding  against  me.  When  Goat 
Island  Creek  was  passed  on  the  left  hand,  knots 
of  pine  forests  rose  picturesquely  in  places  out 
of  the  bottom-lands,  and  an  hour  later,  at  Ben- 
nett's Point,  on  the  right,  I  found  the  watercourse 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  width. 

The  surroundings  were  of  a  lovely  nature  dur- 
ing this  day's  journey.  Here  marshes,  diversi- 
fied by  occasional  hammocks  of  timber  dotting 
their  uninteresting  wastes;  there  humble  habita- 
tions of  whites  and  blacks  appearing  at  intervals 
in  the  forest  growth.  As  I  was  destitute  of  a 
finished  chart  of  the  Coast  Survey,  after  rowing 
along  one  side  of  Hutchinson's  Island  I  became 
bewildered  in  the  maze  of  creeks  which  pen- 
etrate the  marshes  that  lie  between  Bennett's 
Point  and  the  coast. 


272  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

Making  a  rough  topographical  sketch  of  the 
country  as  I  descended  Hutchinson's  Creek,  or 
Big  River,  —  the  latter  appellation  being  the 
most  appropriate,  as  it  is  a  very  wide  water- 
course,—  I  came  upon  a  group  of  low  islands, 
and  found  upon  one  of  them  a  plantation  which 
had  been  abandoned  to  the  negroes,  and  the  little 
bluff  upon  which  two  or  three  rickety  buildings 
were  situated  was  the  last  land  which  remained 
unsubmerged  during  a  high  tide  between  the 
plantation  and  the  sea. 

I  was  now  in  a  quandary.  I  had  left  the  hospi- 
table residence  of  Governor  Aiken  at  ten  o'clock 
A.  M.,  when  I  should  have  departed  at  sunrise  in 
order  to  have  had  time  to  enter  and  pass  through 
St.  Helena  Sound  before  night  came  on.  The 
prospect  of  obtaining  shelter  was  indeed  dismal. 
Just  at  this  time  a  loud  shout  from  the  negroes 
on  shore  attracted  my  attention,  and  I  rested 
upon  my  oars,  while  a  boat-load  of  women  and 
children  paddled  out  to  me. 

"Is  dat  de  little  boat?"  they  asked,  viewing 
my  craft  with  curious  eyes.  "  And  is  dat  boat 
made  of  paper?"  they  continued,  showing  that 
negro  runners  had  posted  the  people,  even  in 
these  solitary  regions,  of  the  approach  of  the 
paper  canoe.  I  questioned  these  negro  women 
about  the  route,  but  each  gave  a  different  an- 
swer as  to  the  passage  through  the  Horns  to  St. 
Helena  Sound.  Hurrying  on  through  tortuous 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  273 

creeks,  the  deserted  tract  called  rfthe  Horns"  was 
entered,  and  until  sunset  I  followed  one  short 
stream  after  another,  to  its  source  in  the  reedy 
plain,  constantly  retracing  the  route,  with  the 
tide  not  yet  ebbing  strong  enough  to  show  me  a 
course  to  the  sound.  Presently  it  ebbed  more 
rapidly,  and  I  followed  the  tide  from  one  intri- 
cacy to  another,  but  never  found  the  principal 
thoroughfare. 

While  I  was  enveloped  in  reeds,  and  at  a  loss 
which  way  to  go,  the  soft  ripple  of  breaking 
waves  struck  my  ear  like  sweet  music.  The  sea 
was  telling  me  of  its  proximity.  Carefully  bal- 
ancing myself,  I  stood  up  in  the  cranky  canoe, 
and  peering  over  the  grassy  thickets,  saw  before 
me  the  broad  waters  of  Helena  Sound.  The 
fresh  salt  breeze  from  the  ocean  struck  upon 
my  forehead,  and  nerved  me  to  a  renewal  of  my 
efforts  to  get  within  a  region  of  higher  land,  and 
to  a  place  of  shelter. 

The  ebbing  tide  was  yet  high,  and  through 
the  forest  of  vegetation,  and  over  the  submerged 
coast,  I  pushed  the  canoe  into  the  sound.  NowT  I 
rowed  as  though  for  my  life,  closely  skirting  the 
marshes,  and  soon  entered  waters  covered  by  a 
chart  in  my  possession.  My  course  was  to  skirt 
the  coast  of  the  sound  from  where  I  had  entered 
it,  and  cross  the  mouths  of  the  Combahee  and 
Bull  rivers  to  the  entrance  of  the  broad  Coosaw. 
This  last  river  I  would  ascend  seven  miles  to  the 
18 


274  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

first  upland,  and  camp  thereon  until  morning. 
The  tide  was  now  against  me,  and  the  night 
was  growing  darker,  as  the  faithful  craft  was 
forced  along  the  marshes  four  miles  to  the  mouth 
of  the  Combahee  River,  which  I  had  to  ascend 
half  a  mile  to  get  rid  of  a  shoal  of  frisky  por- 
poises, who  were  fishing  in  the  current. 

Then  descending  it  on  the  opposite  shore,  I 
rowed  two  miles  further  in  the  dark,  but  for  half 
an  hour  previous  to  my  reaching  the  wide  de- 
bouchure of  Bull  River,  some  enormous  black- 
fish  surged  about  me  in  the  tideway  and  sounded 
their  nasal  calls,  while  their  more  demonstrative 
porpoise  neighbors  leaped  from  the  water  in  the 
misty  atmosphere,  and  so  alarmed  me  and  occu- 
pied my  attention,  that  instead  of  crossing  to  the 
Coosaw  River,  I  unwittingly  ascended  the  Bull, 
and  was  soon  lost  in  the  contours  of  the  river. 

As  I  hugged  the  marshy  borders  of  the  stream 
to  escape  the  strong  current  of  its  channel,  and 
rowed  on  and  on  in  the  gloom,  eagerly  scanning 
the  high,  sedge-fringed  flats  to  find  one  little  spot 
of  firm  upland  upon  which  I  might  land  my 
canoe  and  obtain  a  resting-spot  for  myself  for 
the  night,  the  feeling  that  I  was  lost  was  not  the 
most  cheerful  to  be  imagined.  In  the  thin  fog 
which  arose  from  the  warm  water  into  the  cool 
night  air,  objects  on  the  marshes  assumed  fantas- 
tical shapes.  A  few  reeds,  taller  than  the  rest, 
had  the  appearance  of  trees  twenty  feet  high. 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  275 

So  real  did  these  unreal  images  seem,  that  I 
drove  my  canoe  against  the  soft,  muddy  bank, 
repeatedly  prompted  to  land  in  what  seemed  a 
copse  of  low  trees,  but  in  every  instance  I  was 
deceived.  Still  I  pulled  up  that  mysterious 
river,  ignorant  at  the  time  of  even  its  name, 
praying  only  for  one  little  spot  of  upland  where 
I  might  camp. 

While  thus  employed,  I  peered  over  my 
shoulder  into  the  gloom,  and  beheld  what 
seemed  to  be  a  vision;  for,  out  of  a  cloud  of 
mist  rose  the  skeleton  lines  of  a  large  ship, 
with  all  its  sails  furled  to  the  yards.  "A  ship  at 
anchor,  and  in  this  out-of-the-way  place!"  I  ejac- 
ulated, scarcely  believing  my  eyes;  but  when  I 
pointed  the  canoe  towards  it,  and  again  looked 
over  my  shoulder,  the  vision  of  hope  was  gone. 

Again  I  saw  tall  masts  cutting  through  the 
mists,  but  the  ship's  hull  could  not  be  distin- 
guished, and  as  I  rowed  towards  the  objects,  first 
the  lower  masts  disappeared,  then  the  topmasts 
dissolved,  and  later,  the  topgallant  and  royal 
masts  faded  away.  For  half  an  hour  I  rowed 
and  rowed  for  that  mysterious  vessel,  which  was 
veiled  and  unveiled  to  my  sight.  Never  did  so 
spectral  an  object  haunt  or  thwart  me.  It 
seemed  to  change  its  position  on  the  water,  as 
'  Well  as  in  the  atmosphere,  and  I  was  too  busily 
employed  in  trying  to  reach  it  to  discover  in  the 
darkness  that  the  current,  which  I  could  not  dis- 


276  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

tinguish  from  smooth  water,  was  whirling  me 
down  stream  as  fast  as  I  would  approach  the 
weird  vessel. 

Drawing  once  more  from  the  current,  I  fol- 
lowed the  marsh  until  the  canoe  was  opposite 
the  anchorage  of  a  real  ship;  then,  with  hearty 
pulls,  I  shot  around  its  stern,  and  shouted:  "Ship 
ahoy!" 

No  one  answered  the  hail.  The  vessel  looked 
like  a  man-of-war,  but  not  of  American  build. 
Not  a  light  gleamed  from  her  ports,  not  a  foot- 
fall came  from  her  decks.  She  seemed  to  be 
deserted  in  the  middle  of  the  river,  surrounded 
by  a  desolate  waste  of  marshes.  The  current 
gurgled  and  sucked  about  her  run,  as  the  ebb- 
tide washed  her  black  hull  on  its  way  to  the  sea. 
The  spectacle  seemed  now  even  more  myste- 
rious than  when,  mirage-like,  it  peered  forth 
from  a  cloud  of  mist.  But  it  was  real,  and  not 
fantastic.  Another  hail,  louder  than  the  first, 
went  forth  into  the  night  air,  and  penetrated  to 
the  ship's  forecastle,  for  a  sailor  answered  my 
call,  and  reported  to  the  captain  in  the  cabin  the 
presence  of  a  boat  at  the  ship's  side. 

A  quick,  firm  tread  sounded  upon  the  deck; 
then,  with  a  light  bound,  a  powerfully-built 
young  man  landed  upon  the  high  rail  of  the  ves- 
sel. He  peered  down  from  his  stately  ship  upon 
the  little  speck  which  floated  upon  the  gurgling 
current;  then,  with  a  voice  "filled  with  the  fogs 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.      277 

of  the  ocean,"  he  thundered  forth,  as  though  he 
were  hailing  a  man-of-war:  "What  boat 's  that?" 

"Paper  canoe  Maria  Theresa,"  I  replied,  in  as 
foggy  a  voice  as  I  could  assume. 

"Where  from,  and  where  bound?"  again 
roared  the  captain. 

"  From  Quebec,  Canada,  and  bound  to  sleep 
on  board  your  vessel,  if  I  can  ever  get  up  there," 
I  politely  responded,  in  a  more  subdued  voice, 
for  I  soon  discovered  that  nature  had  never  in- 
tended me  for  a  fog-trumpet. 

"Ah,  is  it  you?  "  cheerily  responded  the  cap- 
tain, suddenly  dispensing  with  all  his  fogginess; 
"  I've  been  looking  for  you  this  long  time.  Got  a 
Charleston  paper  on  board;  your  trip  all  in  it. 
Come  up,  and  break  a  bottle  of  wine  with  me." 

"  All  hands "  came  from  the  forecastle,  and 
Finland  mates  and  Finland  sailors,  speaking  both 
English  and  Russian,  crowded  to  the  rail  to 
receive  the  paper  canoe,  which  had  first  been 
described  to  them  by  English  newspapers  when 
the  vessel  lay  in  a  British  port,  awaiting  the 
charter-party  which  afterwards  sent  them  to  Bull 
River,  South  Carolina,  for  a  load  of  phosphates. 

The  jolly  crew  lowered  buntlines  and  clewT- 
lines,  to  .which  I  attached  my  boat's  stores. 
These  were  hoisted  up  the  high  sides  of  the 
ship,  and,  after  bending  on  a  line  to  the  bow  and 
stern  rings  of  the  canoe,  I  ascended  by  the  lad- 
der, while  Captain  Johs.  Bergelund  and  his 


278  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

mates  claimed  the  pleasure  of  landing  the  paper 
canoe  on  the  deck  of  the  Rurik.  The  tiny  shell 
looked  very  small  as  she  rested  on  the  broad, 
white  decks  of  the  emperor  of  Russia's  old  steam 
yacht,  which  bore  the  name  of  the  founder  of 
the  Russian  empire.  Though  now  a  bark  and 
not  a  steamer,  though  a  freighter  and  not  a 
royal  yacht,  the  Rurik  looked  every  inch  a 
government  vessel,  for  her  young  captain,  with  a 
sailor's  pride,  kept  her  in  a  thorough  state  of 
cleanliness  and  order.  We  went  to  supper. 
The  captain,  his  mates,  and  the  stranger  gath- 
ered around  the  board,  while  the  generous  sailor 
brought  out  his  curious  bottles  and  put  them  by 
the  side  of  the  still  more  curious  dishes  of  food. 

All  my  surroundings  were  those  of  the  coun- 
try of  the  midnight  sun,  and  I  should  have  felt 
more  bewildered  than  when  in  the  fog  I  viewed 
and  chased  this  spectral-looking  ship,  had  not 
Captain  Bergelund,  in  most  excellent  English, 
entertained  me  with  a  flow  of  conversation  which 
put  me  at  my  ease.  He  discoursed  of  Finland, 
where  lakes  covered  the  country  from  near 
Abo,  its  chief  city,  to  the  far  north,  where  the 
summer  days  are  "  nearly  all  night  long." 

Painting  in  high  colors  the  delights  of  his  na- 
tive land,  he  begged  me  to  visit  it.  Finally,  as 
midnight  drew  near,  this  genial  sailor  insisted 
upon  putting  me  in  his  own  comfortable  state- 
room, while  he  slept  upon  a  lounge  in  the  cabin. 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  279 

One  mile  above  the  Rurik's  anchorage  was  the 
phosphate-mill  of  the  Pacific  Company,  which 
was  supplying  Captain  Bergelund,  by  lighters, 
with  his  freight  of  unground  fertilizer. 

The  next  morning  I  took  leave  of  the  Rurik, 
but,  instead  of  descending  the  Bull  River  to  the 
Coosaw,  I  determined  to  save  time  by  crossing 
the  peninsula  between  the  two  rivers  by  means 
of  two  short  creeks  which  were  connected  at 
their  sources  by  a  very  short  canal  near  "  the 
mines  "  of  the  Phosphate  Company.  When  I 
entered  Horse  Island  Creek,  at  eleven  o'clock, 
the  tide  was  on  the  last  of  the  ebb,  and  I  sat  in 
the  canoe  a  long  time  awaiting  the  flood  to  float 
me  up  the  wide  ditch,  which  would  conduct  me 
to  the  creek  that  emptied  into  the  Coosaw. 
Upon  the  banks  of  the  canal  three  hours  were 
lost  waiting  for  the  tide  to  give  me  one  foot  cf 
water,  when  I  rowed  into  the  second  water- 
course, and  late  in  the  afternoon  entered  the  wide 
Coosaw.  The  two  creeks  and  the  connecting 
canal  are  called  the  Haulover  Creek. 

As  I  turned  up  the  Coosaw,  and  skirted  the 
now  submerged  marshes  of  its  left  bank,  two 
dredging-machines  were  at  work  up  the  river 
raising  the  remains  of  the  marine  monsters  of 
antiquity.  The  strong  wind  and  swashing  seas 
being  in  my  favor,  the  canoe  soon  arrived  oppo- 
site the  spot  of  upland  I  had  so  longed  to  reach 
the  previous  night. 


280  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

This  was  Chisolm's  Landing,  back  of  which 
were  the  phosphate  works  of  the  Coosaw 
Mine  Company.  The  inspector  of  phosphates, 
Mr.  John  Hunn,  offered  me  the  hospitality  of 
Alligator  Hall,  where  he  and  some  of  the  gen- 
tlemen employed  by  the  company  resided  in 
bachelor  retirement.  My  host  described  a  mam- 
mal's tooth  that  weighed  nearly  fourteen  pounds, 
which  had  been  taken  from  a  phosphate  mine; 
it  had  been  sent  to  a  public  room  at  Beaufort, 
South  Carolina.  A  fossil  shark's  tooth,  weighing 
four  and  a  half  pounds,  was  also  found,  and  a 
learned  ichthyologist  has  asserted  that  the  owner 
of  this  remarkable  relic  of  the  past  must  have 
been  one  hundred  feet  in  length. 

Beaufort  was  near  at  hand,  and  could  be  easily 
reached  by  entering  Brickyard  Creek,  the  en- 
trance of  which  was  on  the  right  bank  of  the 
Coosaw,  nearly  opposite  Chisolm's  Landing.  It 
was  nearly  six  miles  by  this  creek  to  Beaufort, 
and  from  that  town  to  Port  Royal  Sound,  by  fol- 
lowing Beaufort  River,  was  a  distance  of  eleven 
miles.  The  mouth  of  Beaufort  River  is  only  two 
miles  from  the  sea.  Preferring  to  follow  a  more 
interior  water  route  than  the  Beaufort  one,  the  ca- 
noe was  rowed  up  the  Coosaw  five  miles  to  Whale 
Branch,  which  is  crossed  by  the  Port  Royal  rail- 
road bridge.  Whale  Branch,  five  miles  in  length, 
empties  into  Broad  River,  which  I  descended 
thirteen  miles,  to  the  lower  end  of  Daw  Island, 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  28 I 

on  its  right  bank.     Here,  in  this  region  of  marshy 

shores,  the  Chechessee  River  and  the  Broad  River 

f      ' 

mingle  their  strong  currents  in  Port  Royal  Sound. 
It  was  dusk  when  the  sound  was  entered  from 
the  extreme  end  of  Daw  Island,  where  it  became 
necessary  to  cross  immediately  to  Skull  Creek,  at 
Hilton  Head  Island,  or  go  into  camp  for  the  night. 

I  looked  down  the  sound  six  miles  to  the  broad 
Atlantic,  which  was  sending  in  clouds  of  mist  on 
a  fresh  breeze.  I  gazed  across  the  mouth  of  the 
Chechessee,  and  the  sound  at  the  entrance  of  the 
port  of  refuge.  I  desired  to  traverse  nearly  three 
miles  of  this  rough  water.  I  would  gladly  have 
camped,  but  the  shore  I  was  about  to  leave  offered 
to  submerge  me  with  the  next  high  water.  No 
friendly  hammock  of  trees  could  be  seen  as  I 
glided  from  the  shadow  of  the  high  rushes  of 
Daw  Island.  Circumstances  decided  the  point 
in  debate,  and  I  rowed  rapidly  into  the  sound. 
The  canoe  had  not  gone  half  a  mile  when  the 
Chechessee  River  opened  fully  to  view,  and  a 
pretty  little  hammock,  with  two  or  three  shanties 
beneath  its  trees,  could  be  plainly  seen  on  Daw's 
Island. 

It  was  now  too  late  to  return  and  ascend  the 
river  to  the  hammock,  for  the  sound  was  dis- 
turbed by  the  freshening  breeze  from  the  sea 
blowing  against  the  ebb-tide,  which  was  increased 
in  power  by  the  outflowing  volume  of  water  from 
the  wide  Chechessee.  It  required  all  the  energy 


282    VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

I  possessed  to  keep  the  canoe  from  being  over- 
run by  the  swashy,  sharp-pointed  seas.  Once  or 
twice  I  thought  my  last  struggle  for  life  had 
come,  but  a  merciful  Power  gave  me  the  strength 
and  coolness  that  this  trying  ordeal  required,  and 
I  somehow  weathered  the  dangerous  oyster  reefs 
above  Skull  Creek,  and  landed  at  "  Seabrook 
Plantation,"  upon  Hilton  Head  Island,  near  two 
or  three  old  houses,  one  of  which  was  being  fitted 
up  as  a  store  by  Mr.  Kleim,  of  the  First  New 
York  Volunteers,  who  had  lived  on  the  island 
since  1861.  Mr.  Kleim  took  me  to  his  bachelor 
quarters,  where  the  wet  cargo  of  the  Maria  The- 
resa was  dried  by  the  kitchen  fireplace. 

The  next  day,  February  18,  I  left  Seabrook 
and  followed  Skull  Creek  to  Mackay's  Creek, 
and,  passing  the  mouth  of  May  River,  entered 
Calibogue  Sound,  where  a  sudden  tempest  arose 
and  drove  me  into  a  creek  which  flowed  out  of 
the  marshes  of  Bull  Island.  A  few  negro  huts 
were  discovered  on  a  low  mound  of  earth.  The 
blacks  told  me  their  hammock  was  called  Bird 
Island. 

The  tempest  lasted  all  day,  and  as  no  shelter 
could  be  found  on  the  creek,  a  darky  hauled  my 
canoe  on  a  cart  a  couple  of  miles  to  Bull  Creek, 
which  enters  into  Cooper  River,  one  of  the  water- 
courses I  was  to  enter  from  Calibogue  Sound. 
Upon  reaching  the  wooded  shores  of  Bull  Creek, 
my  carter  introduced  me  to  the  head  man  of  the 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.      283 

settlement,  a  weazened-looking  little  old  crea- 
ture called  Cuffy,  who,  though  respectful  in  his 
demeanor  to  "  de  Yankee-mans,"  was  cross  and 
overbearing  to  the  few  families  occupying  the 
shanties  in  the  magnificent  grove  of  live-oaks 
which  shaded  them. 

Cuffy 's  cook-house,  or  kitchen,  which  was  a 
log  structure  measuring  nine  by  ten  feet,  with 
posts  only  three  feet  high,  was  the  only  building 
which  could  be  emptied  of  its  contents  for  my 
accommodation.  Our  contract  or  lease  was  a 
verbal  one,  CufFy's  terms  being  "whateber  de 
white  man  likes  to  gib  an  ole  nigger."  CufFy 
cut  a  big  switch,  and  sent  in  his  "  darter,"  a  girl 
of  about  fourteen  years,  to  clean  out  the  shanty. 
When  she  did  not  move  fast  enough  to  suit  the 
old  man's  wishes,  he  switched  her  over  the 
shoulders  till  it  excited  my  pity;  but  the  girl 
seemed  to  take  the  beating  as  an  every-day 
amusement,  for  it  made  no  impression  on  her 
hard  skull  and  thick  skin. 

After  commencing  to  "keep  house,"  the  old 
women  came  to  sell  me  eggs  and  beg  for 
"  bacca."  They  requested  me  never  to  throw 
away  my  coffee-grounds,  as  it  made  coffee  "  good 
'nuf  for  black  folks."  I  distributed  some  of  my 
stores  among  them,  and,  after  cutting  rushes  and 
boughs  for  my  bed,  turned  in  for  the  night. 

These  negroes  had  been  raising  Sea-Island 
cotton,  but  the  price  having  declined  to  five 


284  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

cents  a  pound,  they  could  not  get  twenty-five 
cents  a  day  for  their  labor  by  cultivating  it. 

The  fierce  wind  subsided  before  dawn,  but  a 
heavy  fog  covered  the  marshes  and  the  creek. 
Cuffy's  "settlement"  turned  out  before  sunrise 
to  see  me  off;  and  the  canoe  soon  reached  the 
broad  Cooper  River,  which  I  ascended  in  the 
misty  darkness  by  following  close  to  the  left 
bank.  Four  miles  up  the  Cooper  River  from 
Calibogue  Sound  there  is  a  passage  through  the 
marshes  from  the  Cooper  to  New  River,  which 
is  called  Ram's  Horn  Creek.  On  the  right  of 
its  entrance  a  well-wooded  hammock  rises  from 
the  marsh,  and  is  called  Page  Island.  About 
midway  between  the  two  rivers  and  along  this 
crooked  thoroughfare  is  another  piece  of  upland 
called  Pine  Island,  inhabited  by  the  families  of 
two  boat-builders. 

While  navigating  Cooper  River,  as  the  heavy 
mists  rolled  in  clouds  over  the  quiet  waters,  a 
sail-boat,  rowed  by  negroes,  emerged  from  the 
gloom  and  as  suddenly  disappeared.  I  shouted 
after  them:  "Please  tell  me  the  name  of  the  next 
creek."  A  hoarse  voice  came  back  to  me  from 
the  cloud:  "Pull  and  be  d— d."  Then  all  was 
still  as  night  again.  To  solve  this  seemingly 
uncourteous  reply,  so  unusual  in  the  south, 
I  consulted  the  manuscript  charts  which  the 
Charleston  pilots  had  kindly  drawn  for  my  use, 
and  found  that  the  negroes  had  spoken  geo- 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER   CANOE.  285 

graphically  as  well  as  truthfully,  for  Pine  Island 
Creek  is  known  to  the  watermen  as  "  Pull  and 
be  d — d  Creek,"  on  account  of  its  tortuous  char- 
acter, and  chiefly  because,  as  the  tides  head  in 
it,  if  a  boat  enters  it  from  one  river  with  a  favor- 
able tide,  it  has  a  strong  head  current  on  the 
other  side  of  the  middle  ground  to  oppose  it. 
Thus  pulling  at  the  oars  at  some  parts  of  the 
creek  becomes  hard  work  for  the  boatmen; 
hence  this  name,  which,  though  profane,  may 
be*considered  geographical. 

After  leaving  the  Cooper  River,  the  water- 
courses to  Savannah  were  discolored  by  red  or 
yellow  mud.  From  Pine  Island  I  descended 
New  River  two  miles  and  a  half  to  Wall's  Cut, 
which  is  only  a  quarter  of  a  mile  in  length,  and 
through  which  I  entered  Wright's  River,  fol- 
lowing it  a  couple  of  miles  to  the  broad,  yel- 
low, turbulent  current  of  the  Savannah. 

My  thoughts  now  naturally  turned  to  the  early 
days  of  steamboat  enterprise,  when  this  river,  as 
well  as  the  Hudson,  was  conspicuous;  for  though 
the  steamer  Savannah  was  not  the  first  steam- 
propelled  vessel  which  cut  the  waves  of  the 
Atlantic,  she  was  the  first  steamer  that  ever 
crossed  it.  Let  us  examine  historical  data. 
Colonel  John  Stevens,  of  New  York,  built  the 
steamboat  Phoenix  about  the  year  1808,  and  was 
prevented  from  using  it  upon  the  Hudson  River 
by  the  Fulton  and  Livingston  monopoly  charter. 


286  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

The  Phoenix  made  an  ocean  voyage  to  the 
Delaware  River.  The  first  English  venture  was 
that  of  the  steamer  Caledonia,  which  made  a 
passage  to  Holland  in  1817.  The  London  Times 
of  May  n,  1819,  printed  in  its  issue  of  that  date 
the  following  item: 

"  GREAT  EXPERIMENT.  —  A  new  vessel  of  three  hundred  tons 
has  been  built  at  New  York  for  the  express  purpose  of  carrying 
passengers  across  the  Atlantic.  She  is  to  come  to  Liverpool 
direct." 

This  ship-rigged  steamer  was  the  w  Savannah," 
and  the  bold  projector  of  this  experiment  of  send- 
ing a  steamboat  across  the  Atlantic  was  Daniel 
Dodd.  The  Savannah  was  built  in  New  York,  by 
Francis  Picket,  for  Mr.  Dodd.  Stephen  Vail,  of 
Morristown,  New  Jersey,  built  her  engines,  and 
on  the  22d  of  August,  1818,  she  was  launched, 
gliding  gracefully  into  the  element  which  was  to 
bear  her  to  foreign  lands,  there  to  be  crowned 
with  the  laurels  of  success.  On  May  25th  this 
purely  American-built  vessel  left  Savannah,  and 
glided  out  from  this  waste  of  marshes,  under 
the  command  of  Captain  Moses  Rogers,  with 
Stephen  Rogers  as  navigator.  The  port  of  New 
London,  Conn.,  had  furnished  these  able  seamen. 

The  steamer  reached  Liverpool  June  2oth,  the 
passage  having  occupied  twenty-six  days,  upon 
eighteen  of  which  she  had  used  her  paddles.  A 
son  of  Mr.  Dodd  once  told  me  of  the  sensation 
produced  by  the  arrival  of  a  smoking  vessel  on 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  287 

the  coast  of  Ireland,  and  how  Lieutenant  John 
Bowie,  of  the  king's  cutter  Kite,  sent  a  boat-load 
of  sailors  to  board  the  Savannah  to  assist  her 
crew  to  extinguish  the  fires  of  what  his  Majesty's 
officers  supposed  to  be  a  burning  ship. 

The  Savannah,  after  visiting  Liverpool,  con- 
tinued her  voyage  on  July  23d,  and  reached  St. 
Petersburg  in  safety.  Leaving  the  latter  port  on 
October  loth,  this  adventurous  craft  completed 
the  round  voyage  upon  her  arrival  at  Savannah, 
November  3oth. 

I  pulled  up  the  Savannah  until  within  five  miles 
of  the  city,  and  then  left  the  river  on  its  south 
side,  where  old  rice-plantations  are  first  met,  and 
entered  St.  Augustine  Creek,  which  is  the  steam- 
boat thoroughfare  of  the  inland  route  to  Florida. 
Just  outside  the  city  of  Savannah,  near  its  beau- 
tiful cemetery,  where  tall  trees  with  their  grace- 
ful drapery  of  Spanish  moss  screen  from  wind 
and  sun  the  quiet  resting-places  of  the  dead,  my 
canoe  was  landed,  and  stored  in  a  building  of  the 
German  Greenwich  Shooting  Park,  where  Mr. 
John  Hellwig,  in  a  most  hospitable  manner,  cared 
for  it  and  its  owner. 

While  awaiting  the  arrival  of  letters  at  the 
Savannah  post-office,  many  of  the  ladies  of  that 
beautiful  city  came  out  to  see  the  paper  canoe. 
They  seemed  to  have  the  mistaken  idea  that  my 
little  craft  had  come  from  the  distant  Dominion 
of  Canada  over  the  Atlantic  Ocean.  They  also 


288         VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

looked  upon  the  voyage  of  the  paper  canoe  as  a 
very  sentimental  thing,  while  the  canoeist  had 
found  it  an  intensely  practical  affair,  though  oc- 
casionally relieved  by  incidents  of  romantic  or 
amusing  character.  As  the  ladies  clustered 
round  the  boat  while  it  rested  upon  the  centre- 
table  of  Mr.  Hellwig's  parlor,  the}7  questioned  me 
freely. 

>f  Tell  us,"  they  said,  "  what  were  your  thoughts 
while  you  rowed  upon  the  broad  ocean  in  the 
lonely  hours  of'night?" 

Though  unwilling  to  break  their  pleasing  illu- 
sions, I  was  obliged  to  inform  them  that  a  sen- 
sible canoeist  is  usually  enjoying  his  needed  rest 
in  some  camp,  or  sleeping  in  some  sheltered 
place, —  under  a  roof  if  possible,  —  after  it  is  too 
dark  to  travel  in  safety;  and  as  to  ocean  travel- 
ling, the  canoe  had  only  once  entered  upon  the 
Atlantic  Ocean,  and  then  through  a  mistake. 

w  But  what  subjects  occupy  your  thoughts  as 
you  row,  and  row,  and  row  all  day  by  yourself, 
in  this  little  ship?  "  a  motherly  lady  inquired. 

"  To  tell  you  honestly,  ladies,  I  must  say  that 
when  I  am  in  shallow  watercourses,  with  the 
tides  usually  ebbing  at  the  wrong  time  for  my 
convenience,  I  am  so  full  of  anxiety  about  getting 
wrecked  on  the  reefs  of  sharp  coon-oysters, 
that  I  am  wishing  myself  in  deep  water;  and 
when  my  route  forces  me  into  the  deep  water  of 
sounds,  and  the  surface  becomes  tossed  into  wild 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  289 

disorder  by  strong  currents  and  stronger  winds, 
and  the  porpoises  pay  me  their  little  attentions, 
chasing  the  canoe,  flapping  their  tails,  and  show- 
ing their  sportive  dispositions,  I  think  longingly 
of  those  same  shoal  creeks,  and  wish  I  was  once 
more  in  their  shallow  waters." 

:?  We  ladies  have  prayed  for  your  safety,"  said 
a  kind-looking  German  lady,  "  and  we  will  pray 
that  your  voyage  may  have  a  happy  and  success- 
ful end." 

When  the  ladies  left,  two  Irish  laborers,  dressed 
in  sombre  black,  with  high  hats  worn  with  the 
air  of  dignity,  examined  the  boat.  There  was  an 
absence  of  the  sparkle  of  fun  usually  seen  in 
the  Irish  face,  for  this  was  a  serious  occasion. 
They  did  not  see  any  romance  or  sentiment  in 
the  voyage,  but  took  a  broad,  geographical  view 
of  the  matter.  They  stood  silently  gazing  at 
the  canoe  with  the  same  air  of  solemnity  they 
wrould  have  given  a  corpse.  Then  one  addressed 
the  other,  as  though  the  owner  of  the  craft  was 
entirely  out  of  the  hearing  of  their  conversation. 

Said  No.  i,  "  And  what  did  I  tell  ye,  Pater?" 
w  And  so  ye  did,"  replied  No.  2.  "  And  didn't  I 
say  so?"  continued  No.  i.  "Of  course  ye  did; 
and  wasn't  me  of  the  same  mind,  to  be  sure?" 
responded  No.  2.  :r  Yes,  I  told  ye  as  how  it  is 
the  men  of 'these  times  is  greater  than  the  men  of 
ould  times.  There  was  the  great  Coolumbus,  who 
came  over  in  three  ships  to  see  Americky.  What 
19 


290  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

did  he  know  about  paper  boats?  Nothing  at  all, 
at  all.  He  cum  over  in  big  ships,  while  this  young 
feller  has  cum  all  the  way  from  Canada.  I  tell  ye 
the  men  of  ould  times  was  not  up  to  the  men  of 
these  times.  Thin  there's  Captain  Boyton,  who 
don't  use  any  boat  or  ship  at  all,  at  all,  but  goes  a- 
STvimming  in  rubber  clothes  to  keep  him  dry  all 
over  the  Atlantic  Oshin.  Jis'  look,  man,  how  he 
landed  on  the  shores  of  ould  Ireland  not  long  since. 
Now  what's  Coolumbus,  or  any  other  man  of  the 
past  ages,  to  him?  Coolumbus  could  not  hold  a 
candle  to  Boyton !  No,  I  tell  ye  agen  that  the  men 
of  this  age  is  greater  than  the  men  of  the  past 
ages."  "  And,"  broke  in  No.  2,  "  there's  a  Brit- 
isher who's  gone  to  the  River  Niles  in  a  ca- 
noe." "The  River  Niles!"  hotly  exclaimed 
No.  i;  "  don't  waste  your  breath  on  that  thing. 
It's  no  new  thing  at  all,  at  all.  It  was  diskivered 
a  long  time  ago,  and  nobody  cares  a  fig  for  it 
now."  T  Yet,"  responded  No.  2,  "  some  of  those 
old-times  people  were  very  enterprising.  There 
was  that  great  traveller  Robinson  Crusoe :  ye  must 
confess  he  was  a  great  man  for  his  time."  :r  The 
same  who  wint  to  the  South  Sea  Islands  and 
settled  there?  "  asked  the  first  biographer.  "  The 
very  same  man"  replied  No.  2,  with  animation. 
This  instructive  conversation  was  here  inter- 
rupted by  a  party  of  ladies  and  gentlemen,  who 
in  turn  gave  their  views  of  canoe  and  canoeist. 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  29! 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

FROM   THE   SAVANNAH    RIVER  TO   FLORIDA. 

ROUTE  TO  THE  SEA  ISLANDS  OF  GEORGIA.  —  STORM-BOUND  ON 
GREEN  ISLAND.  —  OSSAI3AW  ISLAND.  —  ST.  CATHERINE'S  SOUND. 
—  SAPELO  ISLAND.  —  THE  MUD  OF  MUD  RIVER.  —  NIGHT  IN  A 
NEGRO  CABIN.  —  "  DE  SHOUTINGS "  ON  DOBOY  ISLAND.  — 
BROUGHTON  ISLAND.  —  ST.  SIMON'S  AND  JEKYL  ISLANDS.  — - 
INTERVIEW  WITH  AN  ALLIGATOR.  —  A  NIGHT  IN  JOINTER 
HAMMOCK.  —  CUMBERLAND  ISLAND  AND  ST.  MARY'S  RIVER.  — 
FAREWELL  TO  THE  SEA. 

ON  February  24th,  the  voyage  was  again  re- 
sumed. My  route  lay  through  the  coast 
islands  of  Georgia,  as  far  south  as  the  state 
boundary,  Cumberland  Sound,  and  the  St.  Ma- 
ry's River.  This  part  of  the  coast  is  very  inter- 
esting, and  is  beautifully  delineated  on  the  Coast 
Charts  No.  56-57  of  the  United  States  Coast 
Survey,  which  were  published  the  year  after  my 
voyage  ended. 

Steamers  run  from  Savannah  through  these 
interesting  interior  water-ways  to  the  ports  of 
the  St.  John's  River,  Florida,  and  by  taking  this 
route  the  traveller  can  escape  a  most  uninterest- 
ing railroad  journey  from  Savannah  to  Jackson- 
ville, where  sandy  soils  and  pine  forests  present 


292      VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

an  uninviting  prospect  to  the  eye.  A  little 
dredging,  in  a  few  places  along  the  steamboat 
route,  should  be  done  at  national  cost,  to  make 
this  a  more  convenient  and  expeditious  tidal 
route  for  vessels. 

Leaving  Greenwich,  Bonaventure,  and  Thun- 
derbolt behind  me  on  the  upland,  the  canoe  en- 
tered the  great  marshy  district  of  the  coast  along 
the  Wilmington  and  Skiddaway  rivers  to  Skid- 
daway  Narrows,  which  is  a  contracted,  crooked 
watercourse  connecting  the  Skiddaway  with  the 
Burnside  River.  The  low  lands  were  made  pic- 
turesque by  hammocks,  some  of  which  were  cul- 
tivated. 

In  leaving  the  Burnside  for  the  broad  Vernon 
River,  as  the  canoe  approached  the  sea,  one  of 
the  sudden  tempests  which  frequently  vex  these 
coast-waters  arose,  and  drove  me  to  a  hammock 
in  the  marshes  of  Green  Island,  on  the  left  bank 
and  opposite  the  mouth  of  the  Little  Ogeechee 
River.  Green  Island  has  been  well  cultivated 
in  the  past,  but  is  now  only  the  summer  home 
of  Mr.  Styles,  its  owner.  Two  or  three  families 
of  negroes  inhabited  the  cabins  and  looked  after 
the  property  of  the  absent  proprietor. 

I  waded  to  my  knees  in  the  mud  before  the 
canoe  could  be  landed,  and,  as  it  stormed  all 
night,  I  slept  on  the  floor  of  the  humble  cot  of 
the  negro  Echard  Holmes,  having  first  treated 
the  household  to  crackers  and  coffee.  The  ne- 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  293 

groes  gathered  from  other  points  to  examine  the 
canoe,  and,  hearing  that  I  was  from  the  north, 
one  grizzly  old  darky  begged  me  to  "  carry " 
his  complaints  to  Washington. 

"  De  goberment,"  he  said,  "  has  been  berry 
good  to  wees  black  folks.  It  gib  us  our  free- 
dom,—  all  berry  well;  but  dar  is  an  noder  ting 
wees  wants;  dat  is,  wees  wants  General  Grant  to 
make  tings  stashionary.  De  storekeeper  gibs  a 
poor  nigger  only  one  dollar  fur  bushel  corn,  some- 
times not  so  much.  Den  he  makes  poor  nigger 
gib  him  tree  dollars  fur  bag  hominy,  sometimes 
more  'n  dat.  Wees  wants  de  goberment  to  make 
tings  stashionary.  Make  de  storekeeper  gib 
black  man  one  dollar  and  quarter  fur  de  bushel 
of  corn,  and  make  him  sell  de  poor  nigger  de 
bag  hominy  fur  much  less  dan  tree  dollars. 
Make  all  tings  stashionary.  Den  dar 's  one  ting 
more.  Tell  de  goberment  to  do  fur  poor  darky 
'nodder  ting,  —  make  de  ole  massa  say  to  me, 
'  You  's  been  good  slave  in  ole  times,  —  berry 
good  slave;  now  I  gib  you  one,  two,  tree,yfo0 
acres  of  land  for  yoursef  Den  ole  nigger  be 
happy,  and  massa  be  happy  too;  den  bof  of  um 
bees  happy.  Hab  you  a  leetle  bacca  fur  dis  ole 
man?" 

From  the  Styles  mansion  it  was  but  three 
miles  to  Ossabaw  Sound.  Little  Don  Island 
and  Raccoon  Key  are  in  the  mouth  of  the  Ver- 
non.  Between  the  two  flat  islands  is  a  deep 


294  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

passage  through  which  the  tides  rush  with  great 
force;  it  is  called  Hell  Gate.  On  the  south 
side  of  Raccoon  Key  the  Great  Ogeechee  River 
pours  its  strong  volume  of  water  into  Ossabaw 
Sound. 

I  entered  the  Great  Ogeechee  through  the 
Don  Island  passage,  and  saw  sturgeon-fishermen 
at  work  with  their  nets  along  the  shores  of  Os- 
sabaw, one  of  the  sea  islands.  Ossabaw  Island 
lies  between  Ossabaw  and  St.  Catherine's 
sounds,  and  is  eight  miles  long  and  six  miles 
wide.  The  side  towards  the  sea  is  firm  upland, 
diversified  with  glades,  while  the  western  por- 
tion is  principally  marshes  cut  up  by  numerous 
creeks.  All  the  sea  islands  produce  the  long 
staple  cotton  known  as  sea-island  cotton,  and 
before  the  war  a  very  valuable  variety.  A  few 
negroes  occupy  the  places  abandoned  by  the 
proprietor,  and  eke  out  a  scanty  livelihood. 

There  are  many  deer  in  the  forests  of  Ossa- 
baw Island.  One  of  its  late  proprietors  in- 
formed me  that  there  must  be  at  least  ten  thou- 
sand wild  hogs  there,  as  they  have  been  multi- 
plying for  many  years,  and  but  few  were  shot 
by  the  negroes.  The  domestic  hog  becomes  a 
very  shy  animal  if  left  to  himself  for  two  or 
three  years.  The  hunter  may  search  for  him 
without  a  dog  almost  in  vain,  though  the  woods 
may  contain  large  numbers  of  these  creatures. 

The  weather  was  now  delightful,  and  had  I 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  295 

possessed  a  light  tent  I  would  not  have  sought 
shelter  at  night  in  a  human  habitation  anywhere 
along  the  route.  The  malaria  which  arises  from 
fresh-water  sinks  in  many  of  the  sea  islands 
during  the  summer  months,  did  not  now  make 
camping-out  dangerous  to  the  health.  Crossing 
the  Great  Ogeechee  above  Middle  Marsh  Island, 
I  followed  the  river  to  the  creek  called  Florida 
Passage,  through  which  I  reached  Bear  River, 
with  its  wide  and  long  reaches,  and  descended  it 
to  St.  Catherine's  Sound. 

Now  the  sea  opened  to  full  view  as  the  canoe 
crossed  the  tidal  ocean  gateway  two  miles  to 
North  Newport  River.  When  four  miles  up  the 
Newport  I  entered  Johnson's  Creek,  which  flows 
from  North  to  South  Newport  rivers.  By 
means  of  the  creek  and  the  South  Newport 
River,  my  little  craft  was  navigated  down  to  the 
southern  end  of  St.  Catherine's  Island  to  the 
sound  of  the  same  name,  and  here  another  inlet 
was  crossed  at  sunset,  and  High  Point  of  Sapelo 
Island  was  reached. 

From  among  the  green  trees  of  the  high  bluff 
a  mansion,  which  exhibited  the  taste  of  its 
builder,  rose  imposingly.  This  was,  however, 
but  one  of  the  many  edifices  that  are  tombs  of 
buried  hopes.  The  proprietor,  a  northern  gen- 
tleman, after  the  war  purchased  one-third  of 
Sapelo  Island  for  fifty-five  thousand  dollars  in 
gold.  He  attempted,  as  many  other  enterprising 


296  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

northerners  had  done,  to  give  the  late  slave  a 
chance  to  prove  his  worth  as  a  freedman  to  the 
world. 

"Pay  the  negro  wages;  treat  him  as  you 
would  treat  a  white  man,  and  he  will  reward 
your  confidence  with  industry  and  gratitude." 
So  thought  and  so  acted  the  large-hearted  north- 
ern colonel.  He  built  a  large  mansion,  engaged 
his  freedmen,  paid  them  for  their  work,  and 
treated  them  like  men.  The  result  was  ruin, 
and  simply  because  he  had  not  paused  to  con- 
sider that  the  negro  had  not  been  born  a  freed- 
man, and  that  the  demoralization  of  slavery  was 
still  upon  him.  Beside  which  facts  we  must 
also  place  certain  ethnological  and  moral  prin- 
ciples which  exist  in  the  pure  negro  type,  and 
which  are  entirely  overlooked  by  those  philan- 
thropic persons  who  have  rarely,  if  ever,  seen  a 
full-blooded  negro,  but  affect  to  understand  him 
through  his  /ia/f-whitQ  brother,  the  mulatto. 

Mud  River  opened  its  wide  mouth  before  me 
as  I  left  the  inlet,  but  the  tide  was  very  low,  and 
Mud  River  is  a  sticking-point  in  the  passage  of 
the  Florida  steamers.  It  became  so  dark  that  I 
was  obliged  to  get  near  the  shore  to  make  a 
landing.  My  attempt  was  made  opposite  a  ne- 
gro's house  which  was  on  a  bluff,  but  the  water 
had  receded  into  the  very  narrow  channel  of 
Mud  River,  and  I  was  soon  stuck  fast  on  a  flat. 
Getting  overboard,  I  sank  to  my  knees  in  the 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  297 

soft  mud.  I  called  for  help,  and  was  answered 
by  a  tall  darky,  who,  with  a  double-barrelled  gun, 
left  his  house  and  stood  in  a  threatening  manner 
on  the  shore.  I  appealed  for  help,  and  said  I 
wished  to  go  ashore.  "  Den  cum  de  best  way 
you  can,"  he  answered  in  a  surly  manner.  "What 
duz  you  want  'bout  here,  any  way?  What  duz 
you  want  on  Choc'late  Plantation,  anyhow?" 

I  explained  to  this  ugly  black  that  I  was  a 
northern  man,  travelling  to  see  the  country,  and 
wished  to  camp  near  his  house  for  protection, 
and  promised,  if  he  would  aid  me  to  land,  that  I 
would  convince  him  of  my  honest  purpose  by 
showing  him  the  contents  of  my  canoe,  and 
would  prove  to  him  that  I  was  no  enemy  to  the 
colored  man.  I  told  him  of  the  maps,  the  let- 
ters, and  the  blankets  which  were  in  the  little 
canoe  now  so  fast  in  the  mud,  and  what  a  loss  it 
would  be  if  some  marauder,  passing  on  the  next 
high  tide,  should  steal  my  boat. 

The  fellow  slowly  lowered  his  gun,  which  had 
been  held  in  a  threatening  position,  and  said: 

"  Nobody  knows  his  friends  in  dese  times.  I'se 
had  a  boat  stealed  by  some  white  man,  and  spose 
you  was  cumin  to  steal  sumting  else.  Dese  folks 
on  de  riber  can't  be  trussed.  Dey  steals  ebry- 
ting.  Heaps  o'  bad  white  men  'bout  nowadays 
sens  de  war.  Steals  a  nigger's  chickens,  boats, 
and  ebryting  dey  lays  hands  on.  Up  at  de  big 
house  on  High  Pint  (norfen  gemmin  built  him, 


298  YOYACiE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

and  den  got  gusted  wid  cotton-planting  and  went 
home)  de  white  folks  goes  and  steals  all  de 
cheers  and  beds,  and  ebryting  out  ob  de  house. 
Sens  de  war  all  rascals." 

It  was  a  wearisome  and  dangerous  job  for  me 
to  navigate  the  canoe  over  the  soft,  slippery  mud 
to  the  firm  shore,  as  there  were  unfathomed 
places  in  the  flats  which  might  ingulf  or  entomb 
me  at  an}'  step;  but  the  task  was  completed,  and 
I  stood  face  to  face  with  the  now  half  tranquillized 
negro.  Before  removing  the  mud  that  hung  upon 
me  to  the  waist  in  heavy  clods,  I  showed  the 
darky  my  chart-case,  and  explained  the  object 
of  my  mission.  He  was  very  intelligent,  and, 
after  asking  a  few  questions,  said  to  his  son: 

"Take  dis  gun  to  de  house; "  and  then  turning 
to  me,  continued:  "  Dis  is  de  sort  ob  man  Fse  am. 
I'se  knows  how  to  treat  a  friend  like  a  white  man, 
and  I'se  can  fight  wid  my  knife  or  my  fist  or  my 
gun  anybody  who  'poses  on  me.  Now  I'se  knows 
you  is  a  gemmin  I'se  won't  treat  you  like  a  nig- 
ger. Gib  you  best  I'se  got.  Cum  to  de  house." 

When  inside  of  the  house  of  this  resolute 
black,  ever)'  attention  was  paid  to  my  comfort. 
The  cargo  of  the  paper  canoe  was  piled  up  in 
one  corner  of  the  room.  The  wife  and  children 
sat  before  the  bright  fire  and  listened  to  the  story 
of  my  cruise.  I  doctored  the  sick  pickaninny  of 
my  host,  and  made  the  family  a  pot  of  strong  cof- 
fee. This  negro  could  read,  but  he  asked  me  to 


VOYAGE  OF 'THE  PAPER  CANOE.     299 

address  a  label  he  wished  to  attach  to  a  bag  of 
Sea-Island  cotton  of  one  hundred  and  sixty 
pounds'  weight,  which  he  had  raised,  and  was 
to  ship  by  the  steamboat  Lizzie  Baker  to  a  mer- 
cantile house  in  Savannah. 

As  I  rested  upon  my  blankets,  which  were 
spread  upon  the  floor  of  the  only  comfortable 
room  in  the  house,  at  intervals  during  the  night 
the  large  form  of  the  black  stole  softly  in  and  bent 
over  me  to  see  if  I  were  well  covered  up,  and  he 
as  noiselessly  piled  live-oak  sticks  upon  the  dying 
embers  to  dry  up  the  dampness  which  rose  from 
the  river. 

He  brought  me  a  basin  of  cold  water  in  the 
morning,  and  not  possessing  a  towel  clean  enough 
for  a  white  man,  he  insisted  that  I  should  use  his 
wife's  newly  starched  calico  apron  to  wipe  my 
face  and  hands  upon.  When  I  offered  him 
money  for  the  night's  accommodation  and  the 
excellent  oyster  breakfast  that  his  wife  prepared 
for  me,  he  said :  "  You  may  gib  my  wife  what- 
eber  pleases  you  for  her  cooking,  but  nuffin  for 
de  food  or  de  lodgings.  I'se  no  nigger,  ef  I  is 
a  cullud  man." 

It  was  now  Saturday,  and  as  I  rowed  through 
the  marsh  thoroughfare  called  New  Tea  Kettle 
Creek,  which  connects  Mud  River  with  Doboy 
Sound  near  the  southern  end  of  Sapelo  Island,  I 
calculated  the  chances  of  finding  a  resting-place 
for  Sunday.  If  I  went  up  to  the  mainland 


300  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

through  North  and  Darien  rivers  to  the  town  of 
Darien,  my  past  experience  taught  me  that  in- 
stead of  enjoying  rest  I  would  become  a  forced 
exhibiter  of  the  paper  canoe  to  crowds  of  people. 
To  avoid  this,  I  determined  to  pass  the  day  in 
the  first  hammock  that  would  afford  shelter  and 
fire-wood ;  but  as  the  canoe  entered  Doboy 
Sound,  which,  with  its  inlet,  separates  Sapelo 
from  the  almost  treeless  Wolf  Island,  the  wind 
rose  with  such  violence  that  I  was  driven  to  take 
refuge  upon  Doboy  Island,  a  small  marshy  terri- 
tory, the  few  firm  acres  of  which  were  occupied 
by  the  settlement  and  steam  saw-mill  of  Messrs. 
Hiltons,  Foster  &  Gibson,  a  northern  lumber  firm. 

Foreign  and  American  vessels  were  anchored 
under  the  lee  of  protecting  marshes,  awaiting 
their  cargoes  of  sawed  deals  and  hewn  timber; 
while  rafts  of  logs,  which  had  been  borne  upon 
the  currents  of  the  Altamaha  and  other  streams 
from  the  far  interior  regions  of  pine  forests,  were 
collected  here  and  manufactured  into  lumber. 

One  of  the  proprietors,  a  northern  gentleman, 
occupied  with  his  family  a  very  comfortable  cot- 
tage near  the  store  and  steam  saw-mill.  As  the 
Doboy  people  had  learned  of  the  approach  of  the 
paper  canoe  from  southern  newspapers,  the  little 
craft  was  identified  as  soon  as  it  touched  the  low 
shores  of  the  island. 

I  could  not  find  any  kind  of  hotel  or  lodging- 
place  in  this  settlement  of  Yankees,  Canadians, 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  30! 

and  negroes,  and  was  about  to  leave  it  in  search 
of  some  lone  hammock,  when  a  mechanic  kindly 
offered  me  the  floor  of  an  unfinished  room  in  an 
unfinished  house,  in  which  I  passed  my  Sunday 
trying  to  rest,  and  obtaining  my  meals  at  a  res- 
taurant kept  by  a  negro. 

A  member  of  the  Spaulding  family,  the  own- 
ers of  a  part  of  Sapelo  Island,  called  upon  me, 
and  seeing  me  in  such  inhospitable  quarters, 
with  fleas  in  hundreds  invading  my  blankets, 
urged  me  to  return  with  him  to  his  island  do- 
main, wrhere  he  might  have  an  opportunity  to 
make  me  comfortable.  The  kind  gentleman 
little  knew  how  hardened  I  had  become  to  such 
annoyances  as  hard  floors  and  the  active  flea. 
Such  inconveniences  had  been  robbed  of  their 
discomforts  by  the  kind  voices  of  welcome 
wrhich,  with  few  exceptions,  came  from  every 
southern  gentleman  whose  territory  had  been 
invaded  by  the  paper  canoe. 

There  was  but  one  place  of  worship  on  the 
island,  and  that  was  under  the  charge  of  the  ne- 
groes. Accepting  the  invitation  of  a  nephew  of 
the  resident  New  England  proprietor  of  Doboy 
Island  to  attend  "  de  shoutings,"  we  set  out  on 
Sunday  evening  for  the  temporary  place  of  negro 
worship.  A  negro  girl,  decked  with  ribbons, 
called  across  the  street  to  a  young  colored  delin- 
quent: :?You  no  goes  to  de  shoutings,  Sam! 
Why  fur?  You  neber  hears  me  shout,  honey, 


302     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

and  dey  do  say  I  shouts  so  pretty.  Cum  'long 
wid  me  now." 

A  few  blacks  had  collected  in  the  small  shanty, 
and  the  preacher,  an  old  freed  man,  was  about  to 
read  a  hymn  as  we  entered.  At  first  the  singing 
was  low  and  monotonous,  but  it  gradually  swelled 
to  a  high  pitch  as  the  negroes  became  excited. 
Praying  followed  the  singing.  Then  the  black 
preacher  set  aside  "de  shouting"  part  of  the 
s'ervice  for  what  he  considered  more  important 
interests,  and  discoursed  upon  things  spiritual 
and  temporal  in  this  wise: 

"Now  I'se  got  someting  to  tell  all  of  yese 
berry  'portant"  Here  two  young  blacks  got  up 
to  leave  the  room,  but  were  rudely  stopped  by  a 
negro  putting  his  back  against  the  door.  "No, 
no,"  chuckled  the  preacher,  "yese  don't  git  off 
dat  a-way.  I'se  prepared  fur  de  ockasun.  No- 
body gits  out  ob  dis  room  till  I'se  had  my  say. 
Jes  you  set  down  dar.  Now  I'se  goin'  to  do  one 
ting,  and  it's  dis:  I'se  goin'  to  spread  de  Gospel 
all  ober  dis  yere  island  of  Doboy.  Now's  de 
time;  talked  long  'nuf,  too  long,  'bout  buildin' 
de  church.  Whar's  yere  pride?  whar  is  it?  Got 
none!  Look  at  dis  room  for  a  church!  Look 
at  dis  pulpit  —  one  flour-barrel  wid  one  candle 
stickin'  out  ob  a  bottle!  Dat's  yere  pulpit.  Got 
no  pride!  Shamed  o'  yeresefs!  Here  white 
men  comes  way  from  New  York  to  hear  de 
Gospel  in  dis  yere  room  wid  flour-barrel  fur 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  303 

pulpit,  and  empty  bottle  fur  candlestick.  No 
more  talk  now.  All  go  to  work.  De  mill  peo- 
ple will  gib  us  lumber  fur  de  new  church; 
odders  mus'  gib  money.  Tell  ebbry  cullud  pus- 
son  on  de  island  to  cum  on  Tuesday  and  carry 
lumber,  and  gib  ebbry  one  what  he  can,  —  one 
dollar  apiece,  or  ten  cents  if  got  no  more.  De 
white  gemmins  we  knows  whar  to  find  when  we 
wants  dar  money,  but  de  cullud  ones  is  berry 
slippery  when  de  hat  am  passed  round." 

At  the  termination  of  the  preacher's  exhorta- 
tion, I  proposed  to  my  companion  that  I  should 
present  the  minister  with  a  dollar  for  his  new 
church,  but,  with  a  look  of  dismay,  he  replied: 
"  Oh,  don't  give  it  to  the  preacher.  Hand  it  to 
that  other  negro  sitting  near  him.  We  never 
trust  the  -preacher  with  money;  he  always 
spends  the  church-money.  We  only  trust  him 
for  preaching1" 

Monday,  March  ist,  opened  fair,  but  the  wind 
arose  when  the  canoe  reached  Three  Mile  Cut, 
which  connects  the  Darien  with  Altamaha  River. 
I  wrent  through  this  narrow  steamboat  passage, 
and  being  prevented  by  the  wind  from  entering 
the  wide  Altamaha,  returned  to  the  Darien 
River  and  ascended  it  to  General's  Cut,  which, 
with  Butler  River,  affords  a  passage  to  the  Alta- 
maha River.  Before  entering  General's  Cut, 
mistaking  a  large,  half  submerged  alligator  for  a 
log  on  a  mud  bank,  the  canoe  nearly  touched  the 


304     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

saurian  before  he  was  roused  from  his  nap  to 
retire  into  the  water.  General's  Cut  penetrates 
a  rice  plantation  opposite  the  town  of  Darien, 
to  Butler's  Island,  the  estate  of  the  late  Pierce 
Butler,  at  its  southern  end.  Rice-planting,  since 
the  war,  had  not  proved  a  very  profitable  busi- 
ness to  the  present  proprietors,  who  deserve 
much  praise  for  the  efforts  they  have  made  to 
educate  their  freedmen.  A  profitable  crop  of 
oranges  is  gathered  some  seasons  from  the 
groves  upon  Butler's  Island. 

From  the  mouth  of  General's  Cut  down  But- 
ler River  to  the  Altamaha  was  but  a  short  row. 
The  latter  stream  would  have  taken  me  to  Alta- 
maha Sound,  to  avoid  which  I  passed  through 
Wood's  Cut  into  the  South  Altamaha  River,  and 
proceeded  through  the  lowland  rice-plantations 
towards  St.  Simon's  Island,  which  is  by  the  sea. 
About  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  when  close 
to  Broughton  Island,  where  the  South  Altamaha 
presented  a  wide  area  to  the  strong  head-wind 
which  was  sending  little  waves  over  my  canoe, 
a  white  plantation-house,  under  the  veranda  of 
which  an  elderly  gentleman  was  sitting,  attracted 
my  attention.  Here  was  what  seemed  to  be  the 
last  camping-ground  on  a  route  of  several  miles 
to  St.  Simon's  Island. 

If  the  wind  continued  to  blow  from  the  same 
quarter,  the  canoe  could  not  cross  Buttermilk 
Sound  that  night;  so  I  went  ashore  to  inquire  if 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.     305 

there  were  any  hammocks  in  the  marshes  by  the 
river-banks  between  the  plantation  and  the  sound. 

The  bachelor  proprietor  of  Broughton  Island, 
Captain  Richard  A.  Akin,  posted  me  as  to  the 
route  to  St.  Simon's  Island,  but  insisted  that  the 
canoe  traveller  should  share  his  comfortable 
quarters  until  the  next  day;  and  when  the  next 
day  came  round,  and  the  warm  sun  and  smooth 
current  of  the  wide  Altamaha  invited  me  to 
continue  the  voyage,  the  hospitable  rice-planter 
thought  the  weather  not  settled  enough  for  me 
to  venture  down  to  the  sound.  In  fact,  he  held 
me  a  rather  willing  captive  for  several  days,  and 
then  let  me  off  on  the  condition  that  I  should 
return  at  some  future  time,  and  spend  a  month 
with  him  in  examining  the  sea  islands  and  game 
resources  of  the  vicinity. 

Captain  Akin  was  a  successful  rice-planter  on 
the  new  system  of  employing  freedmen  on  wa- 
ges, but  while  he  protected  the  ignorant  blacks 
in  all  their  newly-found  rights,  he  was  a  thor- 
ough disciplinarian.  The  negroes  seemed  to 
like  their  employer,  and  stuck  to  him  with 
greater  tenacity  than  they  did  to  those  planters 
who  allowed  them  to  do  as  they  pleased.  The 
result  of  lax  treatment  with  these  people  is  al- 
ways a  failure  of  crops.  The  rivers  and  swamps 
near  Broughton  Island  abound  in  fine  fishes  and 
terrapin,  while  the  marshes  and  flats  of  the  sea 
islands  afford  excellent  opportunities  for  the 
20 


306  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

sportsman  to  try  his  skill  upon  the  leathered 
tribe. 

On  Monday,  March  9th,  the  Maria  Theresa 
left  Broughton  Island  well  provisioned  with  the 
stores  the  generous  captain  had  pressed  upon 
my  acceptance.  The  atmosphere  was  softened 
by  balmy  breezes,  and  the  bright  sunlight  played 
with  the  shadows  of  the  clouds  upon  the  wide 
marshes,  which  were  noV  growing  green  with 
the  warmth  of  returning  spring.  The  fish 
sprang  from  the  water  as  I  touched  it  with  my 
light  oars. 

St.  Simon's  Island,  —  where  Mr.  Pierce  Butler 
once  cultivated  sea-island  cotton,  and  to  which 
he  took  his  English  bride,  Miss  Kemble,  —  with 
its  almost  abandoned  plantation,  was  reached 
before  ten  o'clock.  Frederica  River  carried  me 
along  the  whole  length  of  the  island  to  St. 
Simon's  Sound.  When  midway  the  island,  I 
paused  to  survey  what  remains  of  the  old  town 
of  Frederica,  of  which  but  few  vestiges  can  be 
discovered.  History  informs  us  that  Frederica 
was  the  first  town  built  by  the  English  in 
Georgia,  and  was  founded  by  General  Ogle- 
thorpe,  who  began  and  established  the  colony. 

The  fortress  was  regular  and  beautiful,  and  was 
the  largest,  most  regular,  and  perhaps  most 
costly  of  any  in  North  America  of  British  con- 
struction. Pursuing  my  journey  southward,  the 
canoe  entered  the  exposed  area  of  St.  Simon's 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.     307 

Sound,  which,  with  its  ocean  inlet,  was  easily 
crossed  to  the  wild  and  picturesque  Jekyl  Island, 
upon  which  the  two  bachelor  brothers  Dubignon 
live  and  hunt  the  deer,  enjoying  the  free  life  of 
lords  of  the  forest.  Their  old  family  mansion, 
once  a  haven  of  hospitality,  where  the  northern 
tourist  and  shipwrecked  sailor  shared  alike  the 
good  things  of  this  life  with  the  kind  host,  was 
used  for  a  target  by  a  gunboat  during  the  late 
war,  and  is  now  in  ruins. 

Here,  twenty  years  ago,  at  midnight,  the  slave- 
yacht  "Wanderer"  landed  her  cargo  of  African 
negroes,  the  capital  for  the  enterprise  being  sup- 
plied by  three  southern  gentlemen,  and  the  ex- 
ecution of  the  work  being  intrusted,  under  care- 
fully drawn  contracts,  to  Boston  parties. 

The  calm  weather  greatly  facilitated  my  prog- 
ress, and  had  I  not  missed  Jekyl  Creek,  which  is 
the  steamboat  thoroughfare  through  the  marshes 
to  Jekyl  and  St.  Andrew's  Sound,  that  whole 
day's  experience  would  have  been  a  most  happy 
one.  The  mouth  of  Jekyl  Creek  was  a  narrow 
entrance,  and  being  off  in  the  sound,  I  passed  it 
as  I  approached  the  lowlands,  which  were 
skirted  until  a  passage  at  Cedar  Hammock 
through  the  marsh  was  found,  some  distance 
from  the  one  I  was  seeking.  Into  this  I  entered, 
and  winding  about  for  some  time  over  its  tor- 
tuous course,  at  a  late  hour  in  the  afternoon  the 
canoe  emerged  into  a  broad  watercourse,  down 


308     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

which  I  could  look  across  Jckyl  Sound  to  the 
sea. 

This  broad  stream  was  Jointer  Creek,  and  I 
ascended  it  to  find  a  spot  of  high  ground  upon 
which  to  camp.  It  was  now  low  water,  and  the 
surface  of  the  marshes  was  three  or  four  feet 
above  my  head.  After  much  anxious  searching, 
and  a  great  deal  of  rowing  against  the  last  of  the 
ebb,  a  forest  of  pines  and  palmetto-trees  was 
reached  on  Colonel's  Island,  at  a  point  about  four 
miles  —  across  the  marshes  and  Brunswick  River 
—  from  the  interesting  old  town  of  Brunswick, 
Georgia. 

The  soft,  muddy  shores  of  the  hammock  were 
in  one  place  enveloped  in  a  thicket  of  reeds,  and 
here  I  rested  upon  my  oars  to  select  a  con- 
venient landing-place.  The  rustling  of  the  reeds 
suddenly  attracted  irry  attention.  Some  animal 
was  crawling  through  the  thicket  in  the  direction 
of  the  boat.  My  eyes  became  fixed  upon  the 
mysterious  shaking  and  waving  of  the  tops  of  the 
reeds,  and  my  hearing  was  strained  to  detect  the 
cause  of  the  crackling  of  the  dry  rushes  over 
which  this  unseen  creature  was  moving.  A 
moment  later  my  curiosity  was  satisfied,  for  there 
emerged  slowly  from  the  covert  an  alligator 
nearly  as  large  as  my  canoe.  The  brute's  head 
was  as  long  as  a  barrel;  his  rough  coat  of  mail 
was  besmeared  with  mud,  and  his  dull  eyes  were 
fixed  steadily  upon  me.  I  was  so  surprised  and 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.     309 

fascinated  by  the  appearance  of  this  huge  reptile 
that  I  remained  immovable  in  my  boat,  while  he 
in  a  deliberate  manner  entered  the  water  within 
a  few  feet  of  me.  The  hammock  suddenly  lost 
all  its  inviting  aspect,  and  I  pulled  away  from 
it  faster  than  I  had  approached.  In  the  gloom  I 
observed  two  little  hammocks,  between  Colonel's 
Island  and  the  Brunswick  River,  which  seemed 
to  be  near  Jointer's  Creek,  so  I  followed  the  tor- 
tuous thoroughfares  until  I  was  within  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  of  one  of  them. 

Pulling  my  canoe  up  a  narrow  creek  towards 
the  largest  hammock,  until  the  creek  ended  in 
the  lowland,  I  was  cheered  by  the  sight  of  a 
small  house  in  a  grove  of  live-oaks,  to  reach 
which  I  was  obliged  to  abandon  my  canoe  and 
attempt  to  cross  the  soft  marsh.  The  tide  was 
now  rising  rapidly,  and  it  might  be  necessary  for 
me  to  swim  some  inland  creek  before  I  could 
arrive  at  the  upland. 

An  oar  was  driven  into  the  soft  mud  of  the 
marsh  and  the  canoe  tied  to  it,  for  I  knew  that 
the  whole  country,  with  the  exception  of  the 
hammock  near  by,  would  be  under  water  at 
flood-tide.  Floundering  through  mud  and  press- 
ing aside  the  tall,  wire-like  grass  of  the  lowland, 
which  entangled  my  feet,  frequently  leaping 
natural  ditches,  and  going  down  with  a  thud  in 
the  mud  on  the  other  side,  I  finally  struck  the 
firm  ground  of  the  largest  Jointer  Hammock, 


310     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

when  the  voice  of  its  owner,  Mr.  R.  F.  Williams, 
sounded  most  cheerfully  in  my  ears  as  he  ex- 
claimed: "Where  did  you  come  from?  How 
did  you  get  across  the  marsh?" 

The  unfortunate  position  of  my  boat  was 
explained  while  the  family  gathered  round  me, 
after  which  we  sat  down  to  supper.  Mr.  Wil- 
liams felt  anxious  about  the  cargo  of  my  boat. 
"The  coons,"  he  said,  "will  scent  your  pro- 
visions, and  tear  everything  to  pieces  in  the 
boat.  We  must  go  look  after  it  immediately." 
To  go  to  the  canoe  we  were  obliged  to  follow  a 
creek  which  swept  past  the  side  of  the  hammock, 
opposite  to  my  landing-place,  and  row  two  or 
three  miles  on  Jointer  Creek.  At  nine  o'clock 
we  reached  the  locality  where  I  had  abandoned 
the  paper  canoe.  Everything  had  changed  in 
appearance;  the  land  was  under  water;  not  a 
landmark  remained  except  the  top  of  the  oar, 
which  rose  out  of  the  lake-like  expanse  of 
water,  while  near  it  gracefully  floated  my  little 
companion.  We  towed  her  to  the  hammock; 
and  after  the  tedious  labor  of  divesting  myself 
of  the  marsh  mud,  which  clung  to  my  clothes, 
had  been  crowned  with  success,  the  comfortable 
bed  furnished  by  my  host  gave  rest  to  limbs  and 
nerves  which  had  been  severely  overtaxed  since 
sunset. 

The  following  day  opened  cloudy  and  windy. 
The  ocean  inlet  of  Jekyl  and  St.  Andrew's  sounds 


VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE.  3!! 

is  three  miles  wide.  From  the  mouth  of  Jointer 
Creek,  across  these  unprotected  sounds,  to 
High  Point  of  Cumberland  Island,  is  eight 
miles.  The  route  from  the  creek  to  Cumberland 
Island  was  a  risky  one  for  so  small  a  boat  as  the 
paper  canoe  while  the  weather  continued  un- 
propitious.  After  entering  the  sounds  there  was 
but  one  spot  of  upland,  near  the  mouth  of  the 
Satilla  River,  that  could  be  used  for  camping 
purposes  on  the  vast  area  of  marshes. 

During  the  month  of  March  rainy  and  windy 
weather  prevail  on  this  coast.  I  could  ill  afford 
to  lose  any  time  shut  up  in  Jointer's  Hammock 
by  bad  weather,  as  the  low  regions  of  Okefe- 
nokee  Swamp  were  to  be  penetrated  before  the 
warm  season  could  make  the  task  a  disagreeable 
one.  After  holding  a  consultation  with  Mr. 
Williams,  he  contracted  to  take  the  canoe  and 
its  captain  across  St.  Andrew's  Sound  to  High 
Point  of  Cumberland  Island  that  clay.  His  little 
sloop  was  soon  under  way,  and  though  the  short, 
breaking  waves  of  the  sound,  and  the  furious 
blasts  of  wind,  made  the  navigation  of  the  shoals 
disagreeable,  we  landed  quietly  at  Mr.  Chubbs' 
Oriental  Hotel,  at  High  Point,  soon  after  noon. 

Mr.  Martin,  the  surveyor  of  the  island,  wel- 
comed me  to  Cumberland,  and  gave  me  much 
information  pertaining  to  local  matters.  The 
next  morning  the  canoe  left  the  high  bluffs  of 
this  beautiful  sea  island  so  filled  with  historic 


312     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

associations,  and  threaded  the  marshy  thorough- 
fare of  Cumberland  and  Brickhill  River  to  Cum- 
berland Sound.  As  I  approached  the  mouth  of 
the  St.  Mary's  River,  the  picturesque  ruins  of 
Dungeness  towered  above  the  live-oak  forest 
of  the  southern  end  of  Cumberland  Island. 
It  was  with  regret  I  turned  my  back  upon  that 
sea,  the  sounds  of  which  had  so  long  struck 
upon  my  ear  with  their  sweet  melody.  It 
seemed  almost  a  moan  that  was  borne  to  me 
now  as  the  soft  waves  laved  the  sides  of  my 
graceful  craft,  as  though  to  give  her  a  last, 
loving  farewell. 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.     313 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

ST.  MARY'S    RIVER   AND   THE    SUWANEE  WILDER- 
NESS. 

A  PORTAGE  TO  BUTTON.  —  DESCENT  OF  THE  ST.  MARY'S  RIVER. 
—  FETE  GIVEN  BY  THE  CITIZENS  TO  THE  PAPER  CANOE, — 
THE  PROPOSED  CANAL  ROUTE  ACROSS  FLORIDA.  —  A  PORTAGE 
TO  THE  SUWANEE  RIVER.  —  A  NEGRO  SPEAKS  ON  ELECTRIC- 
ITY AND  THE  TELEGRAPH. — A  FREEDMAN'S  SERMON. 

I  NOW  ascended  the  beautiful  St.  Mary's  River, 
which  flows  from  the  great  Okefenokee 
Swamp.  The  state  of  Georgia  was  on  my  right 
hand,  and  Florida  on  my  left.  Pretty  hammocks 
dotted  the  marshes,  while  the  country  presented 
peculiar  and  interesting  characteristics.  When 
four  miles  from  Cumberland  Sound,  the  little  city 
of  St.  Mary's,  situated  on  the  Georgia  side  of 
the  river,  was  before  me;  and  I  went  ashore  to 
make  inquiries  concerning  the  route  to  Okefe- 
nokee Swamp. 

My  object  was  to  get  imormation  about  the 
upper  St.  Mary's  River,  from  which  I  proposed 
to  make  a  portage  of  thirty-five  or  forty  miles  in 
a  westerly  direction  to  the  Suwanee  River, 
upon  arriving  at  which  I  would  descend  to  the 


314  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

Gulf  of  Mexico.  My  efforts,  both  at  St.  Mary's 
and  Fernanclina,  on  the  Florida  side  of  Cum- 
berland Sound,  to  obtain  any  reliable  information 
upon  this  matter,  were  unsuccessful.  A  settle- 
ment at  Traders  Hill,  about  seventy-five  miles 
up  the  St.  Mary's  River,  was  the  geographical 
limit  of  local  knowledge,  while  I  wished  to 
ascend  the  river  at  least  one  hundred  miles  be- 
yond that  point. 

Believing  that  if  I  explored  the  uninhabited 
sources  of  the  St.  Mary's,  I  should  be  compelled 
to  return  without  finding  any  settler  upon  its 
banks  at  the  proper  point  of  departure  for  a 
portage  to  the  Suwanee,  it  became  necessary  to 
abandon  all  idea  of  ascending  this  river.  I  could 
not,  however,  give  up  the  exploration  of  the 
route.  In  this  dilemma,  a  kindly  written  letter 
seemed  to  solve  the  difficulties.  Messrs.  Dutton 
&  Rixford,  northern  gentlemen,  who  possessed 
large  facilities  for  the  manufacture  of  resin  and 
turpentine  at  their  new  settlements  of  Dutton, 
^six  miles  from  the  St.  Mary's  River,  and  at  Rix- 
ford, near  the  Suwanee,  kindly  proposed  that  I 
should  take  my  canoe  by  railroad  from  Cumber- 
land Sound  to  Dutton.  From  that  station  Mr. 
Dutton  offered  to  transport  the  boat  through  the 
wilderness  to  the  St.  Mary's  River,  which  could 
be  from  that  point  easily  descended  to  the  sea. 
The  Suwanee  River,  at  Rixford,  could  be 
reached  by  rail,  and  the  voyage  would  end  at 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.      315 

its  debouchure  on  the  marshy  coast  of  the  Gulf 
of  Mexico. 

Hon.  David  Yulee,  president  and  one-third 
owner  of  the  A.  G.  &  W.  I.  T.  C.  Railroad,  which 
connects  the  Atlantic  coast  at  Fernandina  with 
the  Gulf  coast  at  Cedar  Keys,  offered  me  the 
free  use  of  his  long  railroad,  for  any  purpose  of 
exploration,  &c.,  while  his  son,  Mr.  C.  Wick- 
liffe  Yulee,  exerted  himself  to  remove  all  imped- 
iments to  delay. 

These  gentlemen,  being  native  Floridians, 
have  done  much  towards  encouraging  all  legiti- 
mate exploration  of  the  peninsula,  and  have 
also  done  something  towards  putting  a  check  on 
the  outrageous  impositions  practised  on  northern 
agricultural  emigrants  to  Florida,  by  encouraging 
the  organization  of  a  railroad  land-company, 
which  offers  a  forty-acre  homestead  for  fifty  dol- 
lars, to  be  selected  out  of  nearly  six  hundred 
thousand  acres  of  land  along  their  highway 
across  the  state.  A  man  of  comparatively 
small  means  can  now  try  the  experiment  of 
making  a  home  in  the  mild  climate  of  Florida, 
and  if  he  afterwards  abandons  the  enterprise 
there  will  have  been  but  a  small  investment  of 
capital,  and  consequently  little  loss. 

The  turpentine  distillery  of  Dutton  was  situated 
in  a  heavy  forest  of  lofty  pines.  Major  C.  K. 
Dutton  furnished  a  team  of  mules  to  haul  the 
Maria  Theresa  to  the  St.  Mary's  River,  the 


316  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

morning  after  my  arrival  by  rail  at  Dutton  Sta- 
tion. The  warm  sunshine  shot  aslant  the  tall 
pines  as  the  teamster  followed  a  faintly  devel- 
oped trail  towards  the  swamps.  Before  noon  the 
flashing  waters  of  the  stream  were  discernible, 
and  a  little  later,  with  paddle  in  hand,  I  was 
urging  the  canoe  towards  the  Atlantic  coast.  A 
luxurious  growth  of  trees  and  shrubs  fringed 
the  low,  and  in  some  places  submerged,  river 
shores.  Back,  on  the  higher,  sandy  soils,  the 
yellow  pine  forests,  in  almost  primeval  grandeur, 
arose,  shutting  out  all  view  of  the  horizon.  Low 
bluffs,  with  white,  sandy  beaches  of  a  few  rods 
in  extent,  offered  excellent  camping-grounds. 

When  the  Cracker  of  Okefenokee  Swamp  is 
asked  why  he  lives  in  so  desolate  a  region,  with 
only  a  few  cattle  and  hogs  for  companions,  with 
mosquitoes,  fleas,  and  vermin  about  him,  with 
alligators,  catamounts,  and  owls  on  all  sides, 
making  night  hideous,  he  usually  replies,  "  Wai, 
stranger,  wood  and  water  is  so  powerful  handy. 
Sich  privileges  ain't  met  with  everywhar." 

As  I  glided  swiftly  down  the  dark  current  I 
peered  into  the  dense  woods,  hoping  to  be 
cheered  by  the  sight  of  a  settler's  cabin;  but  in 
all  that  day's  search  not  a  clearing  could  be 
found,  nor  could  I  discern  rising  from  the  tree- 
tops  of  the  solitary  forest  a  little  cloud  of  smoke 
issuing  from  the  chimney  of  civilized  man.  I 
was  alone  in  the  vast  wilds  through  which  the 


c'  ,'• 

A  "§ 

ffi  of  Mexico  £ 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  317 

beautiful  river  flowed  noiselessly  but  swiftly  to 
the  sea.  Thoreau  loved  a  swamp,  and  so  do  all 
lovers  of  nature,  for  nowhere  else  does  she  so 
bountifully  show  her  vigorous  powers  of  growth, 
her  varied  wealth  of  botanical  wonders.  Here 
the  birds  resort  in  flocks  when  wear}''  of  the  hot, 
sandy  uplands,  for  here  they  find  pure  water, 
cool  shade,  and  many  a  curious  glossy  berry  for 
their  dainty  appetites. 

As  the  little  Maria  Theresa  sped  onward 
through  the  open  forest  and  tangled  wild-wood, 
through  wet  morass  and  piny  upland,  my 
thoughts  dwelt  upon  the  humble  life  of  the 
Concord  naturalist  and  philosopher.  How  he 
would  have  enjoyed  the  descent  of  this  wild 
river  from  the  swamp  to  the  sea!  He  had  left 
us  for  purer  delights;  but  I  could  enjoy  his 
""Walden"  as  though  he  still  lived,  and  read  of  his 
studies  of  nature  with  ever-increasing  interest. 

Swamps  have  their  peculiar  features.  Those 
of  the  Waccamaw  were  indeed  desolate,  while 
the  swamps  of  the  St.  Mary's  were  full  of  sun- 
shine for  the  traveller.  Soon  after  the  canoe 
had  commenced  her  river  journey,  a  sharp  sound, 
like  that  produced  by  a  man  striking  the  water 
with  a  broad,  flat  stick,  reached  my  ears.  As 
this  sound  was  frequently  repeated,  and  always 
in  advance  of  my  boat,  it  roused  my  curiosity. 
It  proved  to  come  from  alligators.  One  after 
another  slipped  off  the  banks,  striking  the  water 


318  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

with  their  tails  as  they  took  refuge  in  the  river 
from  the  disturber  of  their  peace.  To  observe 
the  movements  of  these  reptiles  I  ran  the  canoe 
within  two  rods  of  the  left  shore,  and  by  rapid 
paddling  was  enabled  to  arrive  opposite  a  crea- 
ture as  he  entered  the  water.  When  thus  con- 
fronted, the  alligator  would  depress  his  ugly 
head,  lash  the  water  once  with  his  tail,  and  dive 
under  the  canoe,  a  most  thoroughly  alarmed  an- 
imal. All  these  alligators  were  mere  babies, 
very  few  being  over  four  feet  long.  Had  they 
been  as  large  as  the  one  which  greeted  me  at 
Colonel's  Island,  I  should  not  have  investigated 
their  dispositions,  but  would  have  considered 
discretion  the  better  part  of  valor,  and  left  them 
undisturbed  in  their  sun-baths  on  the  banks. 

In  all  my  experience  with  the  hundreds  of 
alligators  I  have  seen  in  the  southern  rivers 
and  swamps  of  North  America,  every  one,  both 
large  and  small,  fled  at  the  approach  of  man. 
The  experience  of  some  of  my  friends  in  their 
acquaintance  with  American  alligators  has  been 
of  a  more  serious  nature.  It  is  well  to  exercise 
care  about  camping  at  night  close  to  the  water 
infested  with  large  saurians,  as  one  of  these 
strong  fellows  could  easily  seize  a  sleeping  man 
by  the  leg  and  draw  him  into  the  river.  They 
do  not  seem  to  fear  a  recumbent  or  bowed  fig- 
ure, but,  like  most  wild  animals,  flee  before  the 
upright  form  of  man. 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.      319 

Late  in  the  afternoon  I  passed  an  island,  made 
by  a  "  cut-off"  through  a  bend  of  the  river,  and, 
according  to  previous  directions,  counted  four- 
teen bends  or  reaches  in  the  river  which  was  to 
guide  me  to  Stewart's  Ferry,  the  owner  of  which 
lived  back  in  the  woods,  his  cabin  not  being  dis- 
cernible from  the  river.  Near  this  spot,  which 
is  occasionally  visited  by  lumbermen  and  piny- 
woods  settlers,  I  drew  my  canoe  on  to  a  sandy 
beach  one  rod  in  length.  A  little  bluff,  five  or 
six  feet  above  the  water,  furnished  me  with  the 
broad  leaves  of  the  saw-palmetto,  a  dwarfish  sort 
of  palm,  which  I  arranged  for  a  bed.  The  pro- 
vision-basket was  placed  at  my  head.  A  little 
fire  of  light-wood  cheered  me  for  a  while,  but  its 
bright  flame  soon  attracted  winged  insects  in 
large  numbers.  Having  made  a  cup  of  choco- 
late, and  eaten  some  of  Captain  Akin's  chipped 
beef  and  crackers,  I  continued  my  preparations 
for  the  night.  Feeling  somewhat  nervous  about 
large  alligators,  I  covered  myself  with  a  piece  of 
painted  canvas,  which  was  stiff  and  strong,  and 
placed  the  little  revolver,  my  only  weapon,  under 
my  blanket. 

As  I  fully  realized  the  novelty  of  my  strange 
position  in  this  desolate  region,  it  was  some  time 
before  I  could  compose  myself  and  sleep.  It 
was  a  night  of  dreams.  Sounds  indistinct  but 
numerous  troubled  my  brain,  until  I  was  fully 
roused  to  wakefulness  by  horrible  visions  and 


320  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

doleful  cries.  The  chuck-will's-widow,  which 
in  the  south  supplies  the  place  of  our  whip- 
poor-will,  repeated  his  oft-told  tale  of  "chuck- 
will's-widow,  chuck-will's-widow,"  with  untir- 
ing earnestness.  The  owls  hooted  wildly,  with 
a  chorus  of  cries  from  animals  and  reptiles  not 
recognizable  by  me,  excepting  the  snarling  voices 
of  the  coons  righting  in  the  forest.  These  last 
were  old  acquaintances,  however,  as  they  fre- 
quently gathered  round  my  camp  at  night  to  pick 
up  the  remains  of  supper. 

While  I  listened,  there  rose  a  cry  so  hideous  in 
its  character  and  so  belligerent  in  its  tone,  that  I 
trembled  with  fear  upon  my  palm-leaf  mattress. 
It  resembled  the  bellowing  of  an  infuriated  bull, 
but  was  louder  and  more  penetrating  in  its  effect. 
The  proximity  of  this  animal  was  indeed  un- 
pleasant, for  he  had  planted  himself  on  the  riv- 
er's edge,  near  the  little  bluff  upon  which  my 
camp  had  been  constructed.  The  loud  roar  was 
answered  by  a  similar  bellow  from  the  other  side 
of  the  river,  and  for  a  long  time  did  these  two 
male  alligators  keep  up  their  challenging  cries, 
without  coming  to  combat.  Numerous  wood- 
mice  attacked  my  provision-basket,  and  even 
worked  their  way  through  the  leaves  of  my  pal- 
metto mattress. 

Thus  with  an  endless  variety  of  annoyances 
the  night  wore  wearily  away,  but  the  light  of  the 
rising  sun  did  not  penetrate  the  thick  fog  which 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  32! 

enveloped  the  river  until  after  eight  o'clock, 
when  I  embarked  for  a  second  day's  journey 
upon  the  stream,  which  had  now  attained  a  width 
of  five  or  six  rods.  Rafts  of  logs  blocked  the 
river  as  I  approached  the  settlement  of  Trader's 
Hill,  and  upon  a  most  insecure  footing  the  canoe 
was  dragged  over  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  logs, 
and  put  into  the  water  on  the  lower  side  of  the 
"jam."  Crossing  several  of  these  log  "jams," 
which  covered  the  entire  width  of  the  St.  Mary's, 
I  became  weary  of  the  task,  and,  after  the  last 
was  reached,  determined  to  go  into  camp  until 
the  next  day,  when  suddenly  the  voices  of  men 
in  the  woods  were  heard. 

Soon  a  gentleman,  with  two  raftsmen,  ap- 
peared and  kindly  greeted  me.  They  had  been 
notified  of  my  approach  at  Trader's  Hill  by  a 
courier  sent  from  Dutton  across  the  woods,  and 
these  men,  whose  knowledge  of  wood-craft  is 
wonderful,  had  timed  my  movements  so  cor- 
rectly that  they  had  arrived  just  in  time  to  meet 
me  at  this  point.  The  two  raftsmen  rubbed  the 
canoe  all  over  with  their  hands,  and  expressed 
delight  at  its  beautiful  finish  in  their  own  pe- 
culiar vernacular. 

"  She 's  the  dog-gonedest  thing  I  ever  seed, 
and  jist  as  putty  as  a  new  coffin! "  exclaimed  one. 

"  Indeed,  she 's  the  handsomest  trick  I  ever 
did  blink  on,"  said  the  second. 

The  two  stalwart  lumbermen  lifted  the  boat  as 
21 


322  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

though  she  were  but  a  leather,  and  carried  her, 
jumping  from  log  to  log,  the  whole  length  of  the 
raft.  They  then  put  her  gently  in  the  water,  and 
added  to  their  farewell  the  cheering  intelligence 
that  "  there's  no  more  jams  nor  rafts  'twixt  here 
and  the  sea,  and  you  can  go  clar  on  to  New- 
York  if  you  like." 

Trader's  Hill,  on  a  very  high  bluff  on  the  left 
bank,  was  soon  passed,  when  the  current  seemed 
suddenly  to  cease,  and  I  felt  the  first  tidal  effect 
of  the  sea,  though  many  miles  from  the  coast. 
The  tide  was  flooding.  I  now  laid  aside  the 
paddle,  and  putting  the  light  steel  outriggers  in 
their  sockets,  rapidly  rowed  down  the  now  broad 
river  until  the  shadows  of  night  fell  upon  forest 
and  stream,  when  the  comfortable  residence  of 
Mr.  Lewis  Davis,  with  his  steam  saw-mill,  came 
into  sight  upon  Orange  Bluff,  on  the  Florida  side 
of  the  river.  Here  a  kind  welcome  greeted  me 
from  host  and  hostess,  who  had  dwelt  twenty 
years  in  this  romantic  but  secluded  spot.  There 
were  orange-trees  forty  years  old  on  this  prop- 
erty, and  all  in  fine  bearing  order.  There  was 
also  a  fine  sulphur  spring  near  the  house. 

Mr.  Davis  stated  that,  during  a  residence  of 
twenty  years  in  this  charming  locality,  he  had 
experienced  but  one  attack  of  chills.  He  con- 
sidered the  St.  Mary's  River,  on  account  of  the 
purity  of  its  waters,  one  of  the  healthiest  of 
southern  streams.  The  descent  of  this  beautiful 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.     323 

river  now  became  a  holiday  pastime.  Though 
there  were  but  few  signs  of  the  existence  of 
man,  the  scenery  was  of  a  cheering  character. 
A  brick-kiln,  a  few  sawT-mills,  and  an  abandoned 
rice-plantation  were  passed,  while  the  low  salt- 
marshes,  extending  into  the  river  from  the  forest- 
covered  upland,  gave  evidence  of  the  proximity 
to  the  sea.  Large  alligators  were  frequently  seen 
sunning  themselves  upon  the  edges  of  the  banks. 

At  dusk  the  town  of  St.  Mary's,  in  its  wealth 
of  foliage,  opened  to  my  view  from  across  the 
lowlands,  and  soon  after  the  paper  canoe  was 
carefully  stored  in  a  building  belonging  to  one 
of  its  hospitable  citizens,  while  local  authority 
asserted  that  I  had  traversed  one  hundred  and 
seventy-five  miles  of  the  river. 

One  evening,  while  enjoying  the  hospitality 
of  Mr.  Silas  Fordam,  at  his  beautiful  winter 
home,  "  Orange  Hall,"  situated  in  the  heart  of 
St.  Mary's,  a  note,  signed  by  the  Hon.  J.  M.  Ar- 
now,  mayor  of  the  city,  was  handed  me.  Mr. 
Arnow,  in  the  name  of  the  city  government,  in- 
vited my  presence  at  the  Spencer  House.  Upon 
arriving  at  the  hotel,  a  surprise  awaited  me. 
The  citizens  of  the  place  had  gathered  to  wel- 
come the  paper  canoe  and  its  owner,  and  to 
express  the  kindly  feelings  they,  as  southern  cit- 
izens, held  towards  their  northern  friends.  The 
hotel  was  decorated  with  flags  and  floral  em- 
blems, one  of  which  expressed,  in  its  ingeniously 


324     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

constructed  words,  wrought  in  flowers,  " One 
hundred  thousand  Welcomes" 

The  mayor  and  his  friends  received  me  upon 
the  veranda  of  the  hotel  with  kind  words  of 
welcome.  Bright  lights  glimmered  at  this  mo- 
ment through  the  long  avenue  of  trees,  and 
music  arose  upon  the  night  air.  It  was  a  torch- 
light procession  coming  from  the  river,  bearing 
upon  a  framework  structure,  from  which  hung 
Chinese  lanterns  and  wreaths  of  laurel,  the  little 
paper  canoe.  The  Base-ball  Club  of  the  city, 
dressed  in  their  handsome  uniform,  carried  the 
"Maria  Theresa,"  while  the  sailors  from  the 
lumber  fleet  in  the  river,  with  the  flags  of  several 
nationalities,  brought  up  the  rear. 

When  the  procession  arrived  in  front  of  the 
hotel,  three  hearty  cheers  were  given  by  the 
people,  and  the  mayor  read  the  city's  address  of 
welcome  to  me;  to  which  I  made  reply,  not  only 
in  behalf  of  myself,  but  of  all  those  of  my  coun- 
trymen who  desired  the  establishment  of  a  pure 
and  good,  government  in  every  portion  of  our 
dear  land. 

Mayor  Arnow  presented  me  with  an  engrossed 
copy  of  his  speech  of  welcome,  in  which  he  in- 
vited all  industrious  northerners  to  come  to  his 
native  city,  promising  that  city  ordinances  should 
be  passed  to  encourage  the  erection  of  manufac- 
tories, &c.,  by  northern  capital  and  northern 
labor.  After  the  address,  the  wife  of  the  mayor 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.     325 

presented  me  with  two  memorial  banners,  in  the 
name  of  the  ladies  of  the  city.  These  were  made 
for  the  occasion,  and  being  the  handiwork  of  the 
ladies  themselves,  were  highly  appreciated  by 
the  recipient.  When  these  graceful  tributes  had 
been  received,  each  lady  and  child  present  de- 
posited a  bouquet  of  flowers,  grown  in  the  gardens 
of  St.  Mary's,  in  my  little  craft,  till  it  contained 
about  four  hundred  of  these  refined  expressions 
of  the  good-will  of  these  kind  people.  Not  only 
did  the  native  population  of  the  town  vie  with 
each  other  to  accord  the  lonely  voyager  a  true 
southern  welcome,  but  Mr.  A.  Curtis,  an  English 
gentleman,  who,  becoming  fascinated  with  the 
fine  climate  of  this  part  of  Georgia,  had  settled 
here,  did  all  he  could  to  show  his  appreciation 
of  canoe-travelling,  and  superintended  the  ma- 
rine display  and  flag  corps  of  the  procession. 

I  left  St.  Mary's  with  a  strange  longing  to  re- 
turn to  its  interesting  environs,  and  to  study  here 
the  climatology  of  southern  Georgia,  for,  strange 
to  say,  cases  of  local  "  fever  and  chills  "  have 
never  originated  in  the  city.  It  is  reached  from 
Savannah  by  the  inside  steamboat  route,  or  by 
rail,  to  Fernandina,  with  which  it  is  connected 
by  a  steamboat  ferry  eight  miles  in  length.  Spec- 
ulation not  having  yet  affected  the  low  valuation 
placed  upon  property  around  St.  Mary's,  northern 
men  can  obtain  winter  homes  in  this  attractive 
town  at  a  very  low  cost.  This  city  is  a  port  of 


326  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

entry.  Mr.  Joseph  Shepard,  a  most  faithful 
government  officer,  has  filled  the  position  of 
collector  of  customs  for  several  years. 

As  vessels  of  considerable  tonnage  can  ascend 
the  St.  Mary's  River  from  the  sea  on  a  full  tide 
to  the  wharves  of  the  city,  its  citizens  prophesy  a 
future  growth  and  development  for  the  place 
when  a  river  and  canal  route  across  the  penin- 
sula between  the  Atlantic  Ocean  and  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico  shall  have  been  completed.  For  many 
years  Colonel  Raiford  has  been  elaborating  his 
plan  "  for  elongating  the  western  and  southern 
inland  system  of  navigation  to  harbors  of  the  At- 
lantic Ocean."  He  proposes  to  unite  the  natural 
watercourses  of  the  coast  of  the  Gulf  of  Mexico 
by  short  canals,  so  that  barges  drawing  seven  feet 
of  water,  and  freighted  with  the  produce  of  the 
Mississippi  River  and  its  tributaries,  may  pass 
from  New  Orleans  eastward  to  the  southern  ports 
of  the  Atlantic  States.  The  great  peninsula  of 
Florida  would  be  crossed  by  these  vessels  from 
the  Suwanee  to  the  St.  Mary's  River  by  means 
of  a  canal  cut  through  the  Okefenokee  Swamp, 
and  this  route  would  save  several  hundred  miles 
of  navigation  upon  open  ocean  waters.  The 
dangerous  coral  reefs  of  the  Florida  and  Bahama 
shores  would  be  avoided,  and  a  land-locked 
channel  of  thirty  thousand  miles  of  navigable 
watercourses  would  be  united  in  one  system. 

Lieutenant-Colonel  Q.  A.  Gilmore's  report  on 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.     327 

"Water  Line  for  Transportation  from  the  Mouth 
of  the  St.  Mary's  River,  on  the  Atlantic  Coast, 
through  Okefenokee  Swamp  and  the  State  of 
Florida  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,"  in  which  the 
able  inquirer  discusses  this  water  route,  has  re- 
cently been  published.  I  traversed  a  portion  of 
this  route  in  1875-6,  from  the  head  of  the  Ohio 
River  to  New  Orleans,  and  along  the  shores  of 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico  to  Cedar  Keys,  in  a  cedar 
duck-boat;  and  as  the  results  of  my  observations 
may  some  day  be  made  public,  I  will  at  this 
time  refer  the  reader,  if  he  be  interested  in  the 
important  enterprise,  to  the  Congressional  reports 
which  describe  the  feasibility  of  the  plan. 

Another  portage  by  rail  was  made  in  order  to 
complete  my  journey  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  and 
Rixford,  near  the  Suwanee  River,  was  reached 
via  the  A.  G.  &  W.  I.  T.  C.  Railroad  to  Baldwin, 
thence  over  the  J.  P.  &  M.  Railroad  to  Live  Oak, 
where  another  railroad  from  the  north  connects, 
and  along  which,  a  few  miles  from  Live  Oak, 
Messrs.  Dutton  &  Rixford  had  recently  estab- 
lished their  turpentine  and  resin  works. 

At  Rixford  I  found  myself  near  the  summit,  or 
backbone  of  Florida,  from  which  the  tributaries 
of  the  water-shed  flow  on  one  side  to  the  Atlan- 
tic Ocean,  and  on  the  other  to  the  Gulf  of  Mexico. 
It  was  a  high  region  of  rolling  country,  heavily 
wooded  with  magnificent  pine  forests,  rich  in 
terebinthine  resources.  The  residence  of  the 


328     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

proprietor,  the  store  and  the  distillery,  with  a  few 
log  cabins  inhabited  by  negroes  and  white  em- 
ployes, made  up  the  establishment  of  Rixford. 

The  Crackers  and  negroes  came  from  long 
distances  to  see  the  paper  boat.  One  afternoon, 
when  a  number  of  people  had  gathered  at  Rix- 
ford to  behold  the  little  craft,  I  placed  it  on  one 
of  those  curious  sheets  of  water  of  crystal  purity 
called  in  that  region  a  sink;  and  though  this 
nameless,  mirror-like  lakelet  did  not  cover  over 
an  acre  in  extent,  the  movements  of  the  little 
craft,  when  propelled  by  the  double  paddle,  ex- 
cited an  enthusiasm  which  is  seldom  exhibited 
by  the  piny-woods  people. 

As  the  boat  was  carefully  lifted  from  the  sil- 
very tarn,  one  woman  called  out  in  a  loud  voice, 
"  Lake  Theresa!  "  and  thus,  by  mutual  consent 
of  every  one  present,  did  this  lakelet  of  crystal 
waters  receive  its  name. 

The  blacks  crowded  around  the  canoe,  and 
while  feeling  its  firm  texture,  and  wondering  at 
the  long  distance  it  had  traversed,  expressed 
themselves  in  their  peculiar  and  original  way. 
One  of  their  number,  known  as  a  "  tonguey  nig- 
ger," volunteered  to  explain  the  wonder  to  the 
somewhat  confused  intellects  of  his  companions. 
To  a  question  from  one  negro  as  to  "  How  did 
dis  yere  Yankee-man  cum  all  dis  fur  way  in  de 
paper  canoe,  all  hissef  lone?"  the  ^educated" 
negro  replied :  "  It's  all  de  Lord.  No  man  ken 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.     329 

cum  so  fur  in  apaperboat  ef  de  Lord  didn't  help 
him.  De  Lord  does  eberyting.  He  puts  de  tings 
in  de  Yankee-man's  heads  to  du  um,  an'  dey  duz 
um.  Dar  was  de  big  Franklin  up  norf,  dat  made 
de  telegraf.  Did  ye  eber  har  tell  ob  him?" 

"Neber,  neber!  "  responded  all  the  negroes. 

Then,  with  a  look  of  supreme  contempt  for 
the  ignorance  of  his  audience,  the  orator  pro- 
ceeded: "Dis  great  Franklin,  Cap^n  Franklin, 
he  tort  he'd  kotch  de  litening  and  make  de  tele- 
graf; so  he  flies  a  big  kite  way  up  to  de  heabens, 
an'  he  puts  de  string  in  de  bottle  dat  hab  nufing 
in  it.  Den  he  holds  de  bottle  in  one  hand,  an'  he 
holds  de  cork  in  de  udder  hand.  Down  cums 
de  litening  and  fills  de  bottle  full  up,  and  Cap'n 
Franklin  he  dun  cork  him  up  mighty  quick,  and 
kotched  de  litening  an'  made  de  telegraf.  But 
it  was  de  Lord — de  Lord,  not  Cap'n  Franklin — 
dat  did  all  dis." 

It  was  amusing  to  watch  the  varied  expression 
of  the  negroes,  as  they  listened  to  this  description 
of  the  discovery  of  electricity,  and  the  origin  of 
the  telegraph.  Their  eyes  dilated  with  wonder, 
and  their  thick  lips  parted  till  the  mouth,  grow- 
ing wider  and  wider,  seemed  to  cover  more  than 
its  share  of  the  face.  The  momentary  silence  was 
soon  broken  by  a  deep  gurgle  proceeding  from  a 
stolid-looking  negro,  as  he  exclaimed:  "Did  he 
kotch  de  bottle  full  ob  litening,  and  cork  him 
up.  Golly!  I  tort  he  wud  hab  busted  hissef !  " 


330  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

"So  he  wud!  so  he  wud! "  roared  the  orator, 
"but  ye  see  'twas  all  de  Lord  —  de  Lord's  a- 
doing  it." 

While  in  Florida  I  paid  some  attention  to  the 
negro  method  of  conducting  praise  meetings, 
which  they  very  appropriately  call  "de  shout- 
ings." If  I  give  some  verbatim  reports  of  the 
negro's  curious  and  undignified  clerical  efforts, 
it  is  not  done  for  the  purpose  of  caricaturing 
him,  nor  with  a  desire  to  make  him  appear  desti- 
tute of  mental  calibre;  but  rather  with  the  hope 
that  the  picture  given  may  draw  some  sympathy 
from  the  liberal  churches  of  the  north,  which  do 
not  forget  the  African  in  his  native  jungle,  nor  the 
barbarous  islanders  of  the  South  Seas.  A  well- 
informed  Roman  Catholic  priest  told  me  that 
he  had  been  disappointed  with  the  progress  his 
powerfully  organized  church  had  made  in  con- 
verting the  freedmen.  Before  going  among  them 
I  had  supposed  that  the  simple-minded  black, 
now  no  longer  a  slave,  would  be  easily  attracted 
to  the  impressive  ceremonies  of  the  Church  of 
Rome;  but  after  witnessing  the  activity  of  their 
devotions,  and  observing  how  anxious  they  are 
to  take  a  conspicuous  and  a  leading  part  in  all 
religious  services,  it  seemed  to  me  that  the  free 
black  of  the  south  would  take  more  naturally  to 
Methodism  than  to  any  other  form  of  Chris- 
tianity. 

The  appointment  of  local  -preachers  would  be 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  33! 

especially  acceptable  to  the  negro,  as  he  would 
then  be  permitted  to  have  ministers  of  his  own 
color,  and  of  his  own  neighborhood,  to  lead  the 
meetings;  while  the  Roman  Catholic  priest 
would  probably  treat  him  more  like  a  child,  and 
would  therefore  exercise  a  strong  discipline  over 
him. 

In  one  of  their  places  of  worship,  at  my  re- 
quest, a  New  York  lady,  well  skilled  in  rapid 
writing  and  familiar  with  the  negro  vernacular, 
reported  verbatim  the  negro  preacher's  sermon. 
The  text  was  the  parable  of  the  ten  virgins;  and 
as  the  preacher  went  on,  he  said:  "Five  ob  dem 
war  wise  an'  five  of  dem  war  foolish.  De  wise  jes 
gone  an'  dun  git  dar  lamps  full  up  ob  oil,  and 
git  rite  in  and  see  de  bridegoom;  an'  de  foolish 
dey  sot  dem  rite  down  on  de  stool  ob  do-noting, 
an'  dar  dey  sot  till  de  call  cum;  den  dey  run, 
pick  up  der  ole  lamps  and  try  to  push  door  in, 
but  de  Lord  say  to  dem,  f  Git  out  dar!  you  jes  git 
out  dar! '  an'  shut  door  rite  in  dar  face. 

"  My  brudders  and  my  sisters,  yer  must  fill  de 
lamps  wid  de  gospel  an'  de  edication  ob  Moses, 
fur  Moses  war  a  larned  man,  an'  edication  is  de 
mos  estaminable  blessing  a  pusson  kin  hab  in 
dis  world. 

"Hole-on  to  de  gospel!  Ef  you  see  dat  de 
flag  am  tore,  get  hole  somewhar,  keep  a  grabblin 
until  ye  git  hole  ob  de  stick,  an'  nebah  gib  up  de 
stick,  but  grabble,  grabble  till  ye  die;  for  dough 


332  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

yer  sins  be  as  black  as  scarlet,  dey  shall  be  white 
as  snow." 

The  sermon  over,  the  assembled  negroes  then 
sung  in  slow  measure: 

"Lit-tell  chil-ern,  you'd  bet-tar  be-a-lieve  — 
Lit-tell  chil-ern,  you'd  bet- tar  be-a-lieve  — 
Lit-tell  chil-ern,  you'd  bet-tar  be-a-lieve  — 
I'll  git  home  to  heav-en  when  I  die. 

Sweet  heav-en  ain-a-my-ain, 
Sweet  heav-en  ain-a-my-ain, 
Sweet  heav-en  ain-a-my-ain, 

I'll  git  home  to  heav-en  when  I  die. 

Lord  wish-ed  I  was  in  heav-en, 
Fur  to  see  my  mudder  when  she  enter, 
Fur  to  see  her  tri-als  an'  long  white  robes  : 
She'll  shine  like  cristul  in  de  sun. 

Sweet  heav-en  ain-a-my-ain, 
Sweet  heav-en  ain-a-my-ain, 
Sweet  heav-en  ain-a-my-ain, 

I'll  git  home  to  heav-en  when  I  die." 

While  visiting  a  town  in  Georgia,  where  the 
negroes  had  made  some  effort  to  improve  their 
condition,  I  made  a  few  notes  relating  to  the 
freedman's  debating  society  of  the  place.  Affect- 
ing high-sounding  words,  they  called  their  organ- 
ization, "  De  Lycenum,"  and  its  doings  were 
directed  by  a  committee  of  two  persons,  called 
respectively,  "  de  disputaceous  visitor,"  and  "  de 
lachrymal  visitor."  What  particular  duties  de- 
volved upon  the  "  lachrymal  visitor,"  I  could 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  333 

never  clearly  ascertain.  One  evening  these 
negroes  debated  upon  the  following  theme, 
:?  Which  is  de  best  —  when  ye  are  out  ob  a  ting, 
or  when  ye  hab  got  it?  "  which  was  another  form 
of  expressing  the  old  question,  w  Is  there  more 
pleasure  in  possession  than  in  anticipation?" 
Another  night  the  colored  orators  became  in- 
tensely excited  over  the  query,  "Which  is  de 
best,  Spring  Water  or  Matches?" 

The  freedmen,  for  so  unfortunate  a  class,  seem 
to  be  remarkably  well  behaved.  During  several 
journeys  through  the  southern  states  I  found 
them  usually  temperate,  and  very  civil  in  their 
intercourse  with  the  whites,  though  it  must  be 
confessed  that  but  few  of  them  can  apply  them- 
selves steadily  and  persistently  to  manual  labor, 
either  for  themselves  or  their  employers. 


334  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

DOWN   UPON   THE   SUWANEE  RIVER. 

THE  RICH  FOLIAGE  OF  THE  RIVER.  —  COLUMBUS.  —  ROLINS' 
BLUFF.  —  OLD  TOWN  HAMMOCK.  —  A  HUNTER  KILLED  BY  A 
PANTHER.  —  DANGEROUS  SERPENTS.  —  CLAY  LANDING.  —  THE 
MARSHES  OF  THE  COAST. — BRADFORD'S  ISLAND.  —  MY  LAST 
CAMP.  —  THE  VOYAGE  ENDED. 

SOME  friends,  among  whom  were  Colonel 
George  W.  Nason,  Jr.,  of  Massachusetts, 
and  Major  John  Purviance,  Commissioner  of 
Suwanee  County,  offered  to  escort  the  paper 
canoe  down  "  the  river  of  song  "  to  the  Gulf  of 
Mexico,  a  distance,  according  to  local  authority, 
of  two  hundred  and  thirty-five  miles.  While 
the  members  of  the  party  were  preparing  for  the 
journey,  Colonel  Nason  accompanied  me  to  the 
river,  which  was  less  than  three  miles  from  Rix- 
ford,  the  proprietors  of  which  sent  the  canoe 
after  us  on  a  wagon  drawn  by  mules.  The  point 
of  embarkation  was  the  Lower  Mineral  Springs, 
the  property  of  Judge  Bryson. 

The  Suwanee,  which  was  swollen  by  some 
recent  rains  in  Okefenokee  Swamp,  was  a  wild, 
dark,  turbulent  current,  which  went  coursing 
through  the  woods  on  its  tortuous  route  with 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.      335 

great  rapidity.  The  luxuriant  foliage  of  the 
river-banks  was  remarkable.  Maples  were  in 
blossom,  beech-trees  in  bloom,  while  the  buck- 
eye was  covered  with  its  heavy  festoons  of  red 
flowers.  Pines,  willows,  cotton-wood,  two  kinds 
of  hickory,  water-oak,  live-oak,  sweet-gum, 
magnolia,  the  red  and  white  bay-tree,  a  few  red- 
cedars,  and  haw-bushes,  with  many  species  not 
known  to  me,  made  up  a  rich  wall  of  verdure  on 
either  side,  as  I  sped  along  with  a  light  heart  to 
Columbus,  where  my  compactions  de  voyage 
were  to  meet  me.  Wood-ducks  and  egrets,  in 
small  flocks,  inhabited  the  forest.  The  lime- 
stone banks  of  the  river  were  not  visible,  as  the 
water  was  eighteen  feet  above  its  low  summer 
level. 

I  now  passed  under  the  railroad  bridge  which 
connects  Live  Oak  with  Savannah.  After  a 
steady  row  of  some  hours,  my  progress  was 
checked  by  a  great  boom,  stretched  across  the 
river  to  catch  the  logs  which  floated  down  from 
the  upper  country.  I  was  obliged  to  disembark 
and  haul  the  canoe  around  this  obstacle,  when, 
after  passing  a  few  clearings,  the  long  bridge  of 
the  J.  P.  &  M.  Railroad  came  into  view,  stretching 
across  the  now  wide  river  from  one  wilderness 
to  the  other.  On  the  left  bank  was  all  that 
remained  of  the  once  flourishing  town  of  Colum- 
bus, consisting  now  of  a  store,  kept  by  Mr. 
Allen,  and  a  few  buildings.  Before  the  railroad 


336  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

was  built,  Columbus  possessed  a  population  of 
five  hundred  souls,  and  it  was  reached,  during 
favorable  stages  of  water,  by  light-draught  steam- 
boats from  Cedar  Keys,  on  the  Gulf  of  Mexico. 
The  building  of  railroads  in  the  south  has 
diverted  trade  from  one  locality  to  another,  and 
many  towns,  once  prosperous,  have  gone  to 
decay. 

The  steam  saw-miiis  and  village  of  Ellaville 
were  located  on  the  river-bank  opposite  Colum- 
bus, and  this  lumber  establishment  is  the  only 
place  of  importance  between  it  and  Cedar  Keys. 
This  far-famed  river,  to  which  the  heart  of  the 
minstrel's  darky  "  is  turning  eber,"  is,  in  fact, 
almost  without  the  "one  little  hut  among  de 
bushes,"  for  it  is  a  wild  and  lonely  stream. 
Even  in  the  most  prosperous  times  there  were 
but  few  plantations  upon  its  shores.  Wild  ani- 
mals roam  its  great  forests,  and  vile  reptiles 
infest  the  dense  swamps.  It  is  a  country  well 
fitted  for  the  hunter  and  lumberman,  for  the 
naturalist  or  canoeist;  but  the  majority  of  people 
would,  I  am  sure,  rather  hear  of  it  poured  forth 
in  song  from  the  sweet  lips  of  Christina  Nilsson, 
than  to  be  themselves  "  way  down  upon  the 
Suwanee  Ribber." 

On  Monday,  March  22d,  Messrs.  Nason,  Pur- 
viance,  and  Henderson  joined  me.  The  party 
had  obtained  a  northern-built  shad-boat,  which 
had  been  brought  by  rail  from  Savannah.  It 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  337 

was  sloop-rigged,  and  was  decked  forward,  so 
that  the  enthusiastic  tourists  possessed  a  weather- 
proof covering  for  their  provisions  and  blankets. 
With  the  strong  current  of  the  river,  a  pair  of 
long  oars,  and  a  sail  to  be  used  when  favorable 
winds  blew,  the  party  in  the  shad-boat  could 
make  easy  and  rapid  progress  towards  the  Gulf, 
while  my  lightly  dancing  craft  needed  scarcely 
a  touch  of  the  oar  to  send  her  forward. 

On  Tuesday,  the  23d,  we  left  Columbus,  while 
a  crowd  of  people  assembled  to  see  us  off,  many 
of  them  seeming  to  consider  this  simple  and  de- 
lightful way  of  travelling  too  dangerous  to  be 
attempted.  The  smooth  but  swift  current  rolled 
on  its  course  like  a  sea  of  molten  glass,  as  the 
soft  sunlight  trembled  through  the  foliage  and 
shimmered  over  its  broad  surface. 

Our  boats  glided  safely  over  the  rapids,  which 
for  a  mile  and  a  half  impede  the  navigation  of 
the  river  during  the  summer  months,  but  which 
were  now  made  safe  by  the  great  depth  of  water 
caused  by  the  freshet.  The  weather  was  charm- 
ing, and  our  little  party,  fully  alive  to  all  the 
beautiful  surroundings,  woke  many  an  echo  with 
sounds  meant  to  be  sweet.  Of  course  the  good 
old  song  was  not  forgotten.  Our  best  voice 
sang: 

"  Way  down  up-on  de  Suwanee  Rib-ber, 

Far,  far  away, 

Dere's  whar  my  heart  is  turn-ing  eb-ber, 
Dere's  whar  de  old  folks  stay. 
22 


338     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

All  up  and  down  cle  whole  creation 

Sadly  I  roam, 

Still  longing  tor  de  old  plantation, 
And  for  de  old  folks  at  home. 

"All  round  de  little  farm  I  wander'd 

When  I  was  young  ; 
Den  many  happy  days  I  squan-der'd  — 

Many  de  songs  I  sung. 
When  I  was  playing  wid  my  brud-der, 

Hap-py  was  I. 

O  !  take  me  to  my  kind  old  mud-der, 
Dere  let  me  live  and  die  ! 

"  One  little  hut  among  de  bushes,  — 

One  dat  I  love,  — 
Still  sadly  to  my  mem'ry  rushes, 

No  matter  where  I  rove. 
When  will  I  see  de  bees  a-hum-ming 

All  round  de  comb  ? 
When  will  I  hear  de  ban-jo  tum-ming 


We  all  joined  in  the  chorus  at  the  end  of  each 
verse : 

"  All  de  world  am  sad  and  dreary 

Eb-ry-whar  I  roam. 

O,  darkies,  how  my  heart  grows  weary, 
Far  from  de  old  folks  at  home." 

We  soon  entered  forests  primeval  which  were 
quiet,  save  for  the  sound  of  the  axe  of  the  log- 
thief,  for  timber-stealing  is  a  profession  which 
reaches  its  greatest  perfection  on  the  Florida 
state  lands  and  United  States  naval  reserves. 
Uncle  Sam's  territory  is  being  constantly  plun- 
dered to  supply  the  steam  saw-mills  of  private 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  339 

individuals  in  Florida.  Several  of  the  party  told 
interesting  stories  of  the  way  in  which  log-thieves 
managed  to  steal  from  the  government  legally. 

"  There,"  said  one,  "  is  X,  who  runs  his  mill 
on  the  largest  tract  of  pine  timber  Uncle  Sam 
has  got.  He  once  bought  a  few  acres'  claim 
adjacent  to  a  fine  naval  reserve.  He  was  not, 
of  course,  able  to  discover  the  boundary  line 
which  separated  his  little  tract  from  the  rich 
government  reserve,  so  he  kept  a  large  force 
of  men  cutting  down  Uncle  Sam's  immense 
pines,  and,  hauling  them  to  the  Suwanee,  floated 
them  to  his  mill.  This  thing  went  on  for  some 
time,  till  the  government  agent  made  his  appear- 
ance and  demanded  a  settlement. 

"The  wholesale  timber-thief  now  showed  a 
fair  face,  and  very  frankly  explained  that  he  sup- 
posed he  had  been  cutting  logs  from  his  own 
territory,  but  quite  recently  he  had  discovered 
that  he  had  really  been  trespassing  on  the  prop- 
erty of  his  much-loved  country,  and  as  he  was 
truly  a  loyal  citizen,  he  desired  to  make  restitu- 
tion, and  was  now  ready  to  settle. 

"  The  government  agent  was  astonished  at  the 
seeming  candor  of  the  man,  who  so  worked  upon 
his  sympathy  that  he  promised  to  be  as  easy 
upon  him  as  the  law  allowed.  The  agent  set- 
tled upon  a  valuation  of  fifty  cents  an  acre  for 
all  the  territory  that  had  been  cut  over.  'And 
now,'  said  he,  ?  how  many  acres  of  land  have 


340  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

you  "logged"  since  you  put  your  lumbermen 
into  the  forest?' 

"  Mr.  X  declared  himself  unable  to  answer 
this  question,  but  generously  offered  to  permit 
the  agent  to  put  down  any  number  of  acres  he 
thought  would  represent  a  fair  thing  between 
a  kind  government  and  one  of  its  unfortunate 
citizens.  Intending  to  do  his  duty  faithfully,  the 
officer  settled  upon  two  thousand  acres  as  having 
been  trespassed  upon;  but  to  his  astonishment  the 
incomprehensible  offender  stoutly  affirmed  that  he 
had  logged  fully  five  thousand  acres,  and  at  once 
settled  the  matter  in  full  by  paying  twenty-five 
hundred  dollars,  taking  a  receipt  for  the  same. 

!r  When  this  enterprising  business-man  visited 
Jacksonville,  his  friends  rallied  him  upon  con- 
fessing judgment  to  government  for  three  thou- 
sand acres  of  timber  more  than  had  been  claimed 
by  the  agent.  This  true  patriot  winked  as  he 
replied: 

:  ?  It  is  true  I  hold  a  receipt  from  the  govern- 
ment for  the  timber  on  five  thousand  acres  at 
the  very  low  rate  of  fifty  cents  an  acre.  As  I 
have  not  yet  cut  logs  from  more  than  one-fifth 
of  the  tract,  /  intend  to  -work  off  the  timber  on 
the  other  four  thousand  acres  at  my  leisure,  and 
no  power  can  stop  me  now  I  have  the  govern- 
ment receipt  to  show  it's  paid  for.' ': 

The  sloop  and  the  canoe  had  left  Columbus  a 
little  before  noon,  and  at  six  p.  M.  we  passed 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  34! 

Charles'  Ferry,  where  the  old  St.  Augustine 
and  Tallahassee  forest  road  crosses  the  river. 
At  this  lonely  place  an  old  man,  now  dead, 
owned  a  subterranean  spring,  which  he  called 
w  Mediterranean  passage."  This  spring  is  power- 
ful enough  to  run  a  rickety,  "  up-and-down " 
saw-mill.  The  great  height  of  the  water  al- 
lowed me  to  paddle  into  the  mill  with  my  canoe. 

At  half  past  seven  o'clock  a  deserted  log 
cabin  at  Barrington's  Ferry  offered  us  shelter  for 
the  night.  The  whole  of  the  next  day  we  rowed 
through  the  same  immense  forests,  finding  no 
more  cultivated  land  than  during  our  first  day's 
voyage.  We  landed  at  a  log  cabin  in  a  small 
clearing  to  purchase  eggs  of  a  poor  woman, 
whose  husband  had  shot  her  brother  a  few  days 
before.  As  the  wife's  brother  had  visited  the 
cabin  with  the  intention  of  killing  the  husband, 
the  woman  seemed  to  think  the  murdered  man 
had  "got  his  desarts,"  and,  as  a  coroner's  jury 
had  returned  a  verdict  of  "justifiable  homicide," 
the  affair  was  considered  settled. 

Below  this  cabin  we  came  to  Island  No.  i, 
where  rapids  trouble  boatmen  in  the  summer 
months.  Now  we  glided  gently  but  swiftly  over 
the  deep  current.  The  few  inhabitants  we  met 
along  the  banks  of  the  Suwanee  seemed  to  carry 
with  them  an  air  of  repose  while  awake.  To 
rouse  them  from  mid-day  slumbers  we  would 
call  loudly  as  we  passed  a  cabin  in  the  woods, 


342      VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

and  after  considerable  delay  a  man  would  appear 
at  the  door,  rubbing  his  eyes  as  though  the  genial 
sunlight  was  oppressive  to  his  vision.  It  was 
indeed  a  quiet,  restful  region,  this  great  wilder- 
ness of  the  Suwanee. 

We  passed  Mrs.  Goodman's  farm  and  log 
buildings  on  the  left  bank,  just  below  Island 
No.  8,  before  noon,  and  about  this  time  Major 
Purviance  shot  at  a  large  wild  turkey  {Melea- 
gris  gallop  avo},  knocking  it  off  a  bank  into  the 
water.  The  gobbler  got  back  to  land,  and  led 
us  a  fruitless  chase  into  the  thicket  of  saw-pal- 
metto. He  knew  his  ground  better  than  we,  for, 
though  wounded,  he  made  good  his  escape. 
We  stopped  a  few  moments  at  Troy,  which, 
though  dignified  in  name,  consists  only  of  a 
store  and  some  half  dozen  buildings. 

A  few  miles  below  this  place,  on  the  left 
bank  of  the  river, -is  an  uninhabited  elevation 
called  Rolins'  Bluff,  from  which  a  line  running 
north  22°  east,  twenty-three  miles  and  a  half  in 
length,  will  strike  Live  Oak.  A  charter  to  con- 
nect Live  Oak  with  this  region  of  the  Suwanee 
by  rneans  of  a  railroad  had  just  passed  the  Flor- 
ida legislature,  but  had  been  killed  by  the  veto 
of  the  governor.  After  sunset  the  boats  were 
secured  in  safe  positions  in  front  of  a  deserted 
cabin,  round  which  a  luxuriant  growth  of  bitter- 
orange  trees  showed  what  nature  could  do  for 
this  neglected  grove.  The  night  air  was  balmy, 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.      343 

and  tremulous  with  insect  life,  while  the  alliga- 
tors in  the  swamps  kept  up  their  bellowings  till 
morning. 

After  breakfast  we  descended  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Santa  Fe  River,  which  was  on  the  left  bank 
of  the  Suwanee.  The  piny-woods  people  called 
it  the  SantafFy.  The  wilderness  below  the  Santa 
Fe  is  rich  in  associations  of  the  Seminole  Indian 
war.  Many  relics  have  been  found,  and,  among 
others,  on  the  site  of  an  old  Indian  town,  en- 
tombed in  a  hollow  tree,  the  skeletons  of  an 
Indian  adult  and  child,  decked  with  beads,  were 
discovered.  Fort  Fanning  is  on  the  left  bank, 
and  Old  Town  Hammock  on  the  right  bank  of 
the  Suwanee. 

During  the  Seminole  war,  the  hammock  and 
the  neighboring  fastnesses  became  the  hiding- 
places  of  the  persecuted  Indians,  and  so  wild 
and  undisturbed  is  this  region,  even  at  this  time, 
that  the  bear,  lynx,  and  panther  take  refuge  from 
man  in  its  jungles. 

Colonel  J.  L.  F.  Cottrell  left  his  native  Vir- 
ginia in  1854,  and  commenced  the  cultivation  of 
the  virgin  soil  of  Old  Town  Hammbck.  Each 
state  has  its  peculiar  mode  of  dividing  its  land, 
and  here  in  Florida  this  old  plantation  was  in 
township  10,  section  24,  range  13.  The  estate 
included  about  two  thousand  acres  of  land,  of 
which  nearly  eleven  hundred  were  under  culti- 
vation. The  slaves  whom  the  colonel  brought 


344  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

from  Virginia  were  now  his  tenants,  and  he 
leased  them  portions  of  his  arable  acres.  He 
considered  this  locality  as  healthy  as  any  in  the 
Suwanee  country.  The  old  planter's  home,  with 
its  hospitable  doors  ever  open  to  the  stranger, 
was  embowered  in  live-oaks  and  other  trees, 
from  the  branches  of  which  the  graceful  festoons 
of  Spanish  moss  waved  in  the  soft  air,  telling  of 
a  warm,  moist  atmosphere. 

A  large  screw  cotton-press  and  corn-cribs, 
with  smoke-house  and  other  plantation  buildings, 
were  conveniently  grouped  under  the  spreading 
branches  of  the  protecting  oaks.  The  estate 
produced  cotton,  corn,  sweet  potatoes,  cattle, 
hogs,  and  poultry.  Deer  sometimes  approached 
the  enclosed  fields,  while  the  early  morning  call 
of  the  wild  turkey  came  from  the  thickets  of  the 
hammock.  In  this  retired  part  of  Florida, 
cheered  by  the  society  of  a  devoted  wife  and 
four  lovely  daughters,  lived  the  kind-hearted 
gentleman  who  not  only  pressed  upon  us  the 
comforts  of  his  well-ordered  house,  but  also  in- 
sisted upon  accompanying  the  paper  canoe  from 
his  forest  home  to  the  sea. 

When  gathered  around  the  firesides  of  the 
backwoods  people,  the  conversation  generally 
runs  into  hunting  stories,  Indian  reminiscences, 
and  wild  tales  of  what  the  pioneers  suffered 
while  establishing  themselves  in  their  forest 
homes.  One  event  of  startling  interest  had  oc- 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE.  345 

curred  in  the  Suwanee  country  a  few  weeks 
before  the  paper  canoe  entered  its  confines. 
Two  hunters  went  by  night  to  the  woods  to 
shoot  deer  by  firelight.  As  they  stalked  about, 
with  light-wood  torches  held  above  their  heads, 
they  came  upon  a  herd  of  deer,  which,  being 
bewildered  by  the  glare  of  the  lights,  made  no 
attempt  to  escape.  Sticking  their  torches  in  the 
ground,  the  hunters  stretched  themselves  flat 
upon  the  grass,  to  hide  their  forms  from  the  an- 
imals they  hoped  to  kill  at  their  leisure.  One 
of  the  men  was  stationed  beneath  the  branches 
of  a  large  tree ;  the  other  was  a  few  yards  distant. 

Before  the  preconcerted  signal  for  discharging 
their  rifles  could  be  given,  the  sound  of  a  heavy 
body  falling  to  the  ground,  and  an  accompanying 
smothered  shriek,  startled  the  hunter  who  was 
farthest  from  the  tree.  Starting  up  in  alarm,  he 
flew  to  the  assistance  of  his  friend,  whose  pros- 
trate form  was  covered  by  a  large  panther,  which 
had  pounced  upon  him  from  the  overhanging 
limb  of  the  great  oak.  It  had  been  but  the 
work  of  an  instant  for  the  powerful  cougar  to 
break  with  his  strong  jaws  the  neck  of  the  poor 
backwoodsman. 

In  this  rare  case  of  a  panther  {Felis  concolor) 
voluntarily  attacking  man,  it  will  be  noted  by 
the  student  of  natural  history  that  the  victim  was 
lying  upon  the  ground.  Probably  the  animal 
would  not  have  left  his  perch  among  the 


346  VOYAGE    OF   THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

branches  of  the  oak,  where  he  was  evidently 
waiting  for  the  approach  of  the  deer,  if  the  up- 
right form  of  the  man  had  been  seen.  Go  to  a 
southern  bayou,  which  is  rarely,  if  ever,  visited 
by  man,  and  where  its  saurian  inhabitants  have 
never  been  annoyed  by  him,  —  place  your  body 
in  a  recumbent  position  on  the  margin  of  the 
lagoon,  and  wait  until  some  large  alligator  slowly 
rises  to  the  surface  of  the  water.  He  will  eye 
you  for  a  moment  with  evident  curiosity,  and 
will  in  some  cases  steadily  approach  you. 
When  the  monster  reptile  is  within  two  or  three 
rods  of  your  position,  rise  slowly  upon  your  feet 
to  your  full  height,  and  the  alligator  of  the  south- 
ern states  —  the  A.  Mississippiensis  —  will,  in 
nine  cases  out  of  ten,  retire  with  precipitation. 

There  are  but  few  wild  animals  that  will  at- 
tack man  willingly  when  face  to  face  with  him; 
they  quail  before  his  erect  form.  In  every  case 
of  the  animals  of  North  America  showing  fight 
to  man,  which  has  been  investigated  by  me,  the 
beasts  have  had  no  opportunity  to  escape,  or 
have  had  their  young  to  defend,  or  have  been 
wounded  by  the  hunter. 

It  was  nearly  ten  o'clock  A.  M.  on  Friday, 
March  26th,  when  our  merry  party  left  Old 
Town  Hammock.  This  day  was  to  see  the  end 
of  the  voyage  of  the  paper  canoe,  for  my  tiny 
craft  was  to  arrive  at  the  waters  of  the  great 
southern  sea  before  midnight.  The  wife  and 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.     347 

daughters  of  our  host,  like  true  women  of  the  for- 
est, offered  no  forebodings  at  the  departure  of 
the  head  of  their  household,  but  wished  him,  with 
cheerful  looks,  a  pleasant  voyage  to  the  Gulf. 
The  gulf  port  of  Cedar  Keys  is  but  a  few  miles 
from  the  mouth  of  the  Suwanee  River.  The 
railroad  which  terminates  at  Cedar  Keys  would, 
with  its  connection  with  other  routes,  carry  the 
members  of  our  party  to  their  several  homes. 

The  bright  day  animated  our  spirits,  as  we 
swept  swiftly  down  the  river.  The  party  in  the 
shad-boat,  now  called  "  Adventurer,"  rowed  mer- 
rily on  with  song  and  laughter,  while  I  made  an 
attempt  to  examine  more  closely  the  character 
of  the  water-moccasin  —  the  Trigono  cephalus- 
piscivorus  of  Lacepede,  —  which  I  had  more 
cause  to  fear  than  the  alligators  of  the  river. 
The  water-moccasin  is  about  two  feet  in  length, 
and  has  a  circumference  of  five  or  six  inches. 
The  tail  possesses  a  horny  point  about  half  an 
inch  in  length,  which  is  harmless,  though  the 
Crackers  and  negroes  stoutly  affirm  that  when 
it  strikes  a  tree  the  tree  withers  and  dies,  and 
when  it  enters  the  flesh  of  a  man  he  is  poisoned 
unto  death.  The  color  of  the  reptile  is  a  dirty 
brown.  Never  found  far  from  water,  it  is  com- 
mon in  the  swamps,  and  is  the  terror  of  the  rice- 
field  negroes.  The  bite  of  the  water-moccasin 
is  exceedingly  venomous,  and  it  is  considered 
more  poisonous  than  that  of  the  rattlesnake,  which 


348     VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE. 

warns  man  of  his  approach  by  sounding  his 
rattle. 

The  moccasin  does  not,  like  the  rattlesnake, 
wait  to  be  attacked,  but  assumes  the  offensive 
whenever  opportunity  offers,  striking  with  its 
fangs  at  every  animated  object  in  its  vicinity. 
All  other  species  of  snakes  flee  from  its  presence. 
It  is  found  as  far  north  as  the  Peedee  River  of 
South  Carolina,  and  is  abundant  in  all  low  dis- 
tricts of  the  southern  states.  As  the  Suwanee 
had  overflowed  its  banks  below  Old  Town  Ham- 
mock, the  snakes  had  taken  to  the  low  limbs 
of  the  trees  and  to  the  tops  of  bushes,  where 
they  seemed  to  be  sleeping  in  the  warmth  of  the 
bright  sunlight;  but  as  I  glided  along  the  shore 
a  few  feet  from  their  aerial  beds,  they  discovered 
my  presence,  and  dropped  sluggishly  into  the 
water.  It  would  not  be  an  exaggeration  to  say 
that  we  passed  thousands  of  these  dangerous 
reptiles  while  descending  the  Suwanee.  Rafts- 
men told  me  that  when  traversing  lagoons  in 
their  log  canoes,  if  a  moccasin  is  met  some  dis- 
tance from  land  he  will  frequently  enter  the  canoe 
for  refuge  or  for  rest,  and  instances  have  been 
known  where  the  occupant  has  been  so  alarmed 
as  to  jump  overboard  and  swim  ashore  in  order 
to  escape  from  this  malignant  reptile. 

The  only  place  worthy  of  notice  between  Old 
Town  Hammock  and  the  gulf  marshes  is  Clay 
Landing,  on  the  left  bank  of  the  river,  where 


VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER  CANOE.      349 

Mrs.  Tresper  formerly  lived  in  a  very  comfort- 
able house.  Clay  Landing  was  used  during  the 
Confederate  war  as  a  place  of  deposit  for  block- 
ade goods.  Archer,  a  railroad  station,  is  but 
twenty  miles  distant,  and  to  it  over  rough  roads 
the  contraband  imports  were  hauled  by  mule 
teams,  after  having  been  landed  from  the  fleet 
blockade-runner. 

As  the  sun  was  sinking  to  rest,  and  the  tree- 
shadows  grew  long  on  the  wide  river's  bosom, 
we  tasted  the  saltness  in  the  air  as  the  briny 
breezes  were  wafted  to  us  over  the  forests 
from  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  After  darkness  had 
cast  its  sombre  mantle  upon  us,  we  left  the 
w  East  Pass  "  entrance  to  the  left,  and  our  boats 
hurried  on  the  rapidly  ebbing  tide  down  the  broad 
:?  West  Pass  "  into  the  great  marshes  of  the  coast. 
An  hour  later  we  emerged  from  the  dark  forest 
into  the  smooth  savannas.  The  freshness  of  the 
sea-air  was  exhilarating  The  stars  were  shining 
softly,  and  the  ripple  of  the  tide,  the  call  of  the 
heron,  or  the  whirr  of  the  frightened  duck,  and 
the  leaping  of  fishes  from  the  water,  were  the 
only  sounds  nature  offered  us.  It  was  like  enter- 
ing another  world.  In  these  lowlands,  near  the 
mouth  of  the  river,  there  seemed  to  be  but  one 
place  above  the  high-tide  level.  It  was  a  little 
hammock,  covered  by  a  few  trees,  called  Brad- 
ford's Island,  and  rose  like  an  oasis  in  the  desert. 
The  swift  tide  hurried  along  its  shores,  and  a 


350  VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 

little  farther  on  mingled  the  waters  of  the  great 
wilderness  with  that  of  the  sea. 

Our  tired  party  landed  on  a  shelly  beach,  and 
burned  a  grassy  area  to  destroy  sand-fleas.  This 
done,  some  built  a  large  camp-fire,  while  others 
spread  blankets  upon  the  ground.  I  drew  the 
faithful  sharer  of  my  long  voyage  near  a  thicket 
of  prickly-pears,  and  slept  beside  it  for  the  last 
time,  never  thinking  or  dreaming  that  one  year 
later  I  should  approach  the  mouth  of  the  Suwa- 
nee  from  the  west,  after  a  long  voyage  of  twenty- 
five  hundred  miles  from  the  head  of  the  Ohio 
River,  and  would  again  seek  shelter  on  its  banks. 
It  was  a  night  of  sweet  repose.  The  camp-fire 
dissipated  the  damps,  and  the  long  row  made 
rest  welcome. 

A  glorious  morning  broke  upon  our  party  as 
we  breakfasted  under  the  shady  palms  of  the 
island.  Behind  us  rose  the  compact  wall  of 
dark  green  of  the  heavy  forests,  and  along  the 
coast,  from  east  to  west,  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  were  the  brownish-green  savanna-like 
lowlands,  against  which  beat,  in  soft  murmurs, 
the  waves  of  that  sea  I  had  so  longed  to  reach. 
From  out  the  broad  marshes  arose  low  ham- 
mocks, green  with  pines  and  feathery  with  pal- 
metto-trees. Clouds  of  mist  were  rising,  and 
while  I  watched  them  melt  away  in  the  warm 
beams  of  the  morning  sun,  I  thought  they  were 
like  the  dark  doubts  which  curled  themselves 


VOYAGE    OF    THE    PAPER    CANOE. 


351 


about  me  so  long  ago  in  the  cold  St.  Lawrence, 
now  all  melted  by  the  joy  of  success.  The  snow- 
clad  north  was  now  behind  me.  The  Maria 
Theresa  danced  in  the  shimmering  waters  of 
the  great  southern  sea,  and  my  heart  was  light, 
for  my  voyage  was  over. 


No.  14.      THE  VOYAGE 


THE  PAMPAS  AND  ANDES: 
A  THOUSAND  MILES'  WALK  ACROSS  SOUTH  AMERICA, 

BY  NATHANIEL   H.   BISHOP. 

I2mo.     Cloth.     Illustrated.         Price,  $1.50. 

Notices  of  tJie  Work. 

His  Excellency  Don  Domingo  F.  Sarmiento,  President  of  the  Argentine  Confedera- 
tion, South  America,  in  a  letter  written  to  the  author  during  1877,  says  :  "  Your  book  of 
travels  possesses  the  merit  of  reality  in  the  faithful  descriptions  of  scenes  and  customs  as 
they  existed  at  that  time. 

"  It  has  delighted  me  to  follow  you,  step  by  step,  by  the  side  of  the  ancient  and  pic- 
turesque carts  that  cross  the  vast  plains  which  stretch  between  the  Parana  River  and  the 
base  of  the  Andes.  As  I  have  written  about  the  same  region,  your  book  of  travels  be- 
comes a  valuable  reminder  of  those  scenes ;  and  I  shall  have  to  consult  your  work  in  the 
future  when  I  again  write  about  those  countries. " 


"  Nathaniel  H.  Bishop,  a  mere  lad  of  seventeen,  who,  prompted  by  a  love  of  nature, 
starts  off  from  his  New  England  home,  reaches  the  La  Plata  River,  and  coolly  walks  to 
Valparaiso,  across  Pampa  and  Cordillera,  a  distance  of  more  than  a  thousand  miles  I  It 
is  not  the  mere  fact  of  pedestrianism  that  will  gain  for  Master  Nathaniel  Bishop  a  high 
place  among  travellers ;  nor  yet  the  fact  of  its  having  been  done  in  the  face  of  dangers 
and  difficulties,  —  but  that,  throughout  the.  walk,  he  has  gone  with  his  eyes  open,  and 
gives  us  a  book,  written  at  seventeen,  that  will  make  him  renowned  at  seventy.  It  is 
teeming  with  information,  both  on  social  and  natural  subjects,  and  will  take  rank  among 
books  of  scientific  travel  —  the  only  ones  worth  inquiring  for.  One  chapter  from  the 
book  of  an  educated  traveller  (we  don't  mean  the  education  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge)  is 
worth  volumes  of  the  stuff  usually  forming  the  staple  of  books  of  travels.  And  in  this 
unpretending  book  of  the  Yankee  boy  —  for  its  preface  is  signally  of  this  sort  —  we  have 
scores  of  such  chapters.  The  title  is  not  altogether  appropriate.  It  is  called  '  A  Thou- 
sand Miles'  Walk  across  South  America.'  It  is  more  than  a  mere  walk.  It  is  an  explo- 
ration into  the  kingdom  of  Nature. 

"Sir  Francis  Head  has  gone  over  the  same  ground  on  horseback,  and  given  us  a  good 
account  of  it.  But  this  quiet  'walk'  of  the  American  boy  is  worth  infinitely  more  than 
the  '  Rough  Rides '  of  the  British  baronet  The  one  is  common  talk  and  superfici.il 
observation.  The  other  is  a  study  that  extends  beneath  the  surface." —  Captain  Mayne 
Reid. 

"  Regarded  simply  as  a  piece  of  adventure,  this  were  interesting,  especially  when  told 
of  in  a  tone  of  delightful  modesty.  But  the  book  has  other  recommendations.  This 
boy  has  an  admirable  eye  for  manners,  customs,  costumes,  &c.,  to  say  nothing  of  his 
attention  to  natural  history.  The  reader  seems  to  travel  by  his  side,  and  concludes  the 
book  with  a  sense  of  having  himself  trodden  the  Pampas,  and  mingled  with  their  bar- 
barous inhabitants.  So  far  as  writing-  goes,  this  is  the  supreme  merit  of  a  book  of  trav- 
els. Let  those  explore  who  not  only  see  for  themselves,  but  have  the  rare  ability  to  lend 
their  eyes  to  others.  Mr.  Bishop  is  one  of  the  few  who  can  do  this  ;  the  graphic  sim- 
plicity of  his  narrative  is  above  praise.  Meanwhile,  his  personal  impression  is  very 
charming.  The  quiet  patience  with  which  he  accepted  all  the  hardships  of  his  position  — 
without  the  slightest  parade  of  patience,  however  —  is  beyond  measure  attractive.  But 
the  brave  youth  goes  on  quietly  enduring  what  was  to  be  borne,  and  not  ever  allowing  his 
observation  to  be  dulled  by  the  infelicities  of  his  situation."  —  Boston  Commonwealth, 


BOSTON:    LEE    &    SHEPARD. 
NEW  YORK :     CHARLES    T.    DILLINGHAM. 


FOUR  MONTHS  IN  A  SNEAK-BOX  : 

A  BOAT  VOYAGE  OF  2600  MILES  DOWN  THE  OHIO  AND 

MISSISSIPPI    IMYI.KS,   AM)  ALONG  THE 
GULF  OF  MEXICO. 

The  exploration  of  western  and  southern  writer-courses  of  the  United 
States,  made  in  a  Barnegat  duck-boat,  twelve  feet  in  length,  built  of 
cedar,  and  weighing  two  hundred  pounds. 

BY  NATHANIEL  U.  BISHOP. 

With  Illustrations  and  Maps  prepared  for  the  work  by  special  contract 
with  the  U.  S.  Coast  and  Geodetic  Survey  Bureau. 

Cloth,  $1.50. 


Literary  Notices. 

"We  cannot  close  our  notice  of  Mr.  Bishop's  entertaining  volume 
without  recommending  it  as  worthy  of  perusal  by  all  who  are  fond  of 
reading  works  of  adventure  by  sea  and  land."  —  Chambers'  Journal. 

"This  book  is  still  better  than  his  'VOYAGE  or  THE  PAPER  CANOE.' 
His  history  of  river  camps,  the  shanty-boats  and  river  migrants  is  very 
interesting." —  Times  and  Journal. 

"Mr.  Bishop's  book  is  written  in  a  direct  and  readable  style,  and 
makes  a  closely-matched  companion  to  his  'VOYAGE  OF  THE  PAPER 
CA.VOE.'  "—  The  S«ti«n. 

"  The  volume  contains  many  valuable  geographical  and  historical  de- 
tails, which  furnish  an  Important  aid  in  its  |  <  rnsal.  especially  to  English 
and  other  foreign  readers,  among  whom  the  previous  writings  of  the 
author  have  called  forth  a  good  deal  of  attention."  —  Ntir  York  Tribune. 

"It  is  the  best  production  of  Mr.  N.  H.  Bishop,  the  canoe  traveller." 
—  Louisville  Courier-Journal. 

"  We  invite  all  our  readers  to  step  into  the  Sneak-Box  and  take  a  tour 
with  Mr.  Bishop.  Once  fairly  seated  in  it,  we  know  they  will  enjoy  tlieir 
voyage  and  thank  Mr.  Bishop  for  a  treat  like  that  which  Jules' Verne 
WOOla  give,  and  all  the  more  that  the  journey  is  made  to  regions  of 
reality  instead  of  those  of  romance."  —  Cutliolic  World. 

"  The  incidents  of  the  voyage  are  told  with  an  author's  practical  skill, 
and  without  the  high  coloring  that  should  carry  many  books  of  travel  into 
the  catalogue  of  fiction.  Mr.  Bishop  writes  easily;  he  tells  his  story 
modestly,  frankly,  and  vividly.  He  carries  along  an  under-thread  of  gray 
humor  that  sometimes,  however,  comes  to  the  top  a  bright  color."  — 
Brenfano's  Monllihj. 

"His  glowing 'pen-pictures  of  'shanty-boat'  life  on  the  great  rivers 
are  true  to  life.  Mr.  Bishop  is  a  naturalist,  and  sees  with  a  naturalist's 
eye  the  many  interesting  features  of  natural  history  that  lay  along  his 
route.  His  descriptions  of  persons  and  places  are  graphic."  —  Zion's 
Herald. 


BOSTON:    LEE  &  SHEPARD,  PUBLISHERS. 

New  York:   Charles  T.  Dillingham. 

Edinburgh  :   David  Douglas. 


OTfTflESiTT  Cr  CALIFORNIA 

AT 
LOS  ANGELES 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


2  7  1949 


Form  L9 — 15m-10,'48(B1039)444 


?106     Bishop  - 
354v    Voae  .of  the 


A    001  338  296    5 


F106 
B54v 


